
Qass. 
Book 



M "J- S S**; 



. ^ 



THE LIFE 



OF 



FRANCIS MAEION, 



BY 

W. GILMORE SIMMS. 



'The British soldier trembles 
When Marion's name is told." 

B&TAKZ. 



PHILADELPHIA : 
a. a. EVANS, PUBLISHER, 

No. 439 CHESTNUT STREET. 

18G0. 



Eao'i 



■ '^3^^3 



Eutered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by 

G. G. EVANS, 

in the Clerk's OfBce of the District Court for the Eiistero District of 
Pennsylvania. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. PAGE 
L Joduclion — The Huguenots in South Carolina, 1 

CHAPTER n. 
The Marion Family— Birth of Francis Marion — His Youth — 
Shipwreck, ^ 

CHAPTER HI. 
Marion a Farmer — Vohinteers in the Cherokee Campaign, 32 

CHAPTER IV. 
Cherokee War continues — Marion leads the Forlorn Hope at 
the Battle of Etchoee, 44 

CHAPTER V. 
Marion is returned for the Provincial Congress from St. John's, 
Berkeley— Made Captain in the Second Regiment— Fort 
Johnson taken — Battle of Fort Moultrie, 55 

CHAPTER VI. 
From the Battle of Fort Moultrie to that of Savannah— Anec- 
dote of Jasper — His Death, 7(j 

CHAPTER VII. 

From tht Battle of Savannah to the Defeat of Gates at Cam- 
den, 93 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Or^qfanization of Marion's Brigade— Surprise of Tories under 
Gainey— Defeat of Barfiold— Capture of British Guard with 
Prisoners at Nels'-^n's Ferry, 1 j 3 



IV CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER IX. . PAQi. 
Marion retreats before a superior Force — Defeats the Tories at 
Black Mingo — Surprises and disperses the Force of Colonel 
Tynes at Tarcote — Is pursued by Tarleton, 13'/ 

CHAPTER X. 

Marion attempts Georgetown — Horry defeats Merritt — Moul- 
trie defeated by Barfield — Gabriel Marion taken by the To- 
ries and murdered — Marion retires to Snow's Island, 15 * • 

CHAPTER XI. 
Marion's Camp at Snow's Island — The Character of his War- 
fare — Of his Men — Anecdotes of Conyersand Horry — He 
feasts a British Officer on Potatoes — Quells a Mutiny, lb' 

CHAPTER XII. 

General Greene assumes Command of the Southern Army — 
His Correspondence with Marion — Condition of the Coun- 
try — Marion and Lee surprise Georgetown — Col. Horry de- 
feats Gainey — Marion pursues Mcllraith — Proposed Pitched 
Battle betwixt Picked Men, ^Sd 

CHAPTER XIIL 
Watson and Doyle pursue Marion — He baffles and harasses 
them — Pursues Doyle — His Despondency and final Resolu- 
tion, 214 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Marion renews his Pursuit of Doyle — Confronts Watson — Is 
joined by Col. Lee— Invests and takes Fort Watson — Fort 

Motte taken — Anecdote of Horry and Marion, 228 

CHAPTER XV. 
Correspondence of Marion and Greene — Anecdote of Colonel 
Snipes — Marion takes Georgetown — Attempt of Sumtei 
and Marion on Col. Coates — Battle of Quinby Bridge, • 240 

CHAPTER XVL 

Marion moves secretly to Pon-Pon — Rescues Col. Harden— 
Defeats Major Frazier at Parker's Ferry — Joins the main 
Army under Greene — Battle of Eutaw, 962 



CONTENTS. V 

CHAPTER XVI«L paob 
Retreat of the British from Eutaw— Pursuit of t\*.m &y Marion 
and Lee — Close of the Year, • 277 

CHAPTER XVni. 
Marion summoned to the Camp of Greene — Defeats the British 
Hcrse at St. Thomas— Leaves his Command to Horry, and 
takes his Seat in the Assembly at Jacksonborough, as Sena- 
tor from St. John's, Berkeley — Proceedings of the Assembly 
— Confiscation Act — Dispute between Cols. jNIayham and 
Horry — The Brigade of JMarion surprised, during his ab- 
sence, by a Detachment from Charleston — Marion's Encoun 
ter with the British Horse — Conspiracy in the Camp of 
Greene, 28S 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Marion summoned with his Force to that of Greene — Insurrec- 
tion of the Loyalists on the Pedee — Marches against 1-hem — 
Subdues them — Treats with Gainey — Fanning — Protects 
the Tory, Butler, from his Men— Returns to the Countiy be- 
tween the Santee and the Cooper — IMoves to protect George- 
town from the British Fleet — Defeats the BritisL Cavalry 
under Major Frazier, 310 

CHAPTER XX. 
The British propose Terms of Pacification — Rejected by the 
Civil Authorities — They penetrate the Combahee with their 
Fleet — Death of Col. Laurens — Anecdote of Marion — Death 
of Wilmot — The British evacuate Charleston — Marion sepa- 
rates from his Brigade at Watboo — His military Genius, 324 

CHAPTER XXL 
Marion retires to his Farm, which he finds in Ruins — Is return- 
ed to the Senate from St. John — His Course on the Confisca- . 
tion Act — Anecdotes — Is made Commandant at Fort John- 
r;on--His Marriage — A Member of the State Convention in 
■ 1 7P4— Withdraws from Public L^fe— His Death, 333 



NOTE. 

'n preparing ihipfiiofjraphy, the following works have been consulted 

1. A Sketch of the Life of Brig. Gen. Francis Marion, and a His- 
tory of his Brigade, &c By Wm. Dcbein James, A. M. Charles^ 
ton, S. C. 1821. 

2. The Life of Gen. Francis Marion, &c. By Brig. Gen. P. Hcrry 
and M. L. Weems. Philadelphia. 1S33. 

3 A MS. Memoir of the Life of Brig. Gen. P. Horry. By Himself, 
i. Sketches of the Life and Correspondence of Nathanael Greene 

&c. By William Johnson. Charleston. 1S22. 
&. Memo;.rs of the American Revolution, &c. By William Moul- 

trie. New York. 1802. 

6. Anecdotes of the Revolutionary War in America (1st and 2d 

series). By Alex. Garden. 1822 and 1828. 

7. Memoirs of the War in the Southern Department of the United 

States. By Henry Lee, &c. Philadelphia. 1812. 

8. Memoirs of the American Revolution, &c., as relating to the State 

of South Carolina, &c. By John Drayton, LL.D. Charleston, 
1821. 

9. The History of South Carolina, &c. By David Ramsay. Charles- 

ton. 1809. 
0. The History of Georgia, &c. By Capt. Hugh M'Call. Savan- 
nah. 1811. 

11. A History of the Campaigns of 17S0 and 1781, in the Southern 

Provinces of North America. By Lieut. Col. Tarleton, Com- 
mandant of the late British Legion. London. 1797. 

12. Strictures on Lieut. Col. Tarleton's History, &c. ByRodeiick 

Mackenzie, late Lieutenant in the 71st Regiment, &c. LSndoo 
1787. 

13. History of the Revolution of South Carolina from a Britisn Pro 
vince to an Independent State. By David Ramsay, M. D 
Trenton. 1785. 

14. An Historical Account of the Rise and Progress of the Colonies 
of South Carolina and Georgia. (Hewatt.) London. 1779. 

15. A New Voyage to Carolina, &c. By John Lawson, Gerf^, 

Surveyor- General of North Carolina. London. 1709. 
IC. The History of the Rise, Progress, and Establishment of the 

Independence of the United States of America, &c. By William 

Gordon, D. D. New York. 1789. 
17 Five volumes of MS. Letters from distinguished officers of the 

Revolution in the South. From the Collection of Gen. Petei 

Worry, in the possession of Dr. R. W. Gibbes,of S. Carolina 



PREFACE 



The facts, in the life of Francis Marion, are far less generally 
extended in our country than his fame. The present is an attempt 
to supply this deficiency, and to justify, by the array of authentic par- 
ticulars, the high position which has been assigned him among the 
master- workers in our revolutionary struggle. The task has been a 
difficult, but I trust not entirely an unsuccessful one. Our southern' 
chronicles are meagre and unsatisfactory. South Carolina was too 
long in the occupation of the British — too long subject to the rava- 
ges of civil and foreign war, to have preserved many of those minor 
records which concern only the renown of individuals, and are un- 
necessary to the comprehension of great events; and the vague trib- 
utes of unquestioning tradition are not adequate authorities for the 
biographer, whose (aws are perhaps even more strict than those 
which govern the mstorian. Numerous volumes, some private ma- 
nuscripts, and much unpublished correspondence, to which reference 
has been more particularly made in the appendix, have been con- 
sulted in the preparation of tliis narrative. The various histories oi 
Carolina and Georgia have also been made use of. Minor facts havi 
been gathered from the lips of living witnesses. Of the two works 
devoted especially to our subject, that by the Rev. Mr. Weems is 
most generally known — a delightful book for the young. The au- 
thor seems not to have contemplated any less credulous reader* 



r R E F A e E . 

and its general character is such as naturally to inspire us with 
frequent doubts of its statements. Mr. Weems had rather loose 
notions of the privileges of the biographer ; though, in reality, he 
has transgressed much less in his Life of Marion than is generally 
supposed. But the untamed, and sometimes extravagant exube- 
rance of his style might well subject his narrative to suspicion. 
Of the " Sketch" by the Hon. Judge James, we are more secure, 
though, as a literary performance, it is quite as devoid of merit aa 
pretension. Besides, the narrative is not thorough. It dwells 
somewhat too minutely upon one class of facts, to the neglect or 
the exclusion of every other. I have made both of these works tribu. 
tary to my own whenever this was possible 

Woodland, S. C, May 25. 1844. 



THE LIFE 



OF 



FEAICIS lAEIOI. 



CHAPTER I 

Introduction. — The Huguenots in South Carolina. 

The name of Francis Marion Is identified, in the history 
of South Carolina, his parent state, with all that is pleasing 
and exciting in romance. He is, par excellence^ the famous 
partizan of that region. While Sumter stands conspicuous for 
bold daring, fearless intrepidity and always resolute behav- 
ior ; while Lee takes eminent rank as a gallant Captain of 
Cavalry, the eye and the wing of the southern liberating 
army under Greene ; Marion is proverbially the great 
master of strategem ; the wily fox of the swamps — never 
to be caught, never to be followed, — ^yet always at hand, 
with unconjectured promptness, at the moment when he is 
least feared and is least to be expected. His pre-eminence 
in this peculiar and most difficult of all kinds of warfare, is 
not to be disputed. In his native region he has no com- 
petitor, and it is scarcely possible to compute the vast in- 
fluence which he possessed and exercised over the minds 
and feelings of the people of Carolina, simply through 
his own resources, at a period most adverse to their for- 
tunes, and when the cause of their liberties, everywhere 



10 LI F E F M A R I ( N . 

endangered, was almost eveiywliere considered hopeless 
His name was the great rallying cry of the yeoman in 
battle — the word that promised hope — that cheered the 
desponding patriot — that startled, and made to pause in his 
career of recklessness and blood, the cruel and sanguinary 
tory. Unprovided with the means of warfare, no less than 
of comfort — wanting equally in food and weapons — we find 
him supplying the one deficiency with a cheerful courage 
that never failed ; the other with the resources of a genius 
that seemed to wish for nothing from without. With a 
force constantly fluctuating and feeble in consequence of 
the most ordinary necessities — half naked men, feeding 
upon unsalted pottage, — forced to fight the enemy by day, 
and look after their little families, concealed in swamp or 
thicket, by night — he still contrived, — one knows not well 
how, — to keep alive and bright the sacred fire of his country's 
liberties, at moments when they seemed to have no other 
champion. In this toil and watch, taken cheerfully and 
with spirits that never appeared to lose their tone and 
elasticity, tradition ascribes to him a series of achievements, 
which, if they were small in comparison with the great 
performances of European war, were scarcely less im- 
portant ; and which, if they sometimes transcend belief, 
must yet always delight the imagination. His adventures 
have given a rich coloring to fable, and have stimulated its 
performances. ^The languao;e of song and story' has been 
employed to do them honor, and our children are taught, 
in lessons that they love, to lisp the deeds and the patriotism 
of his band. "Marion" — "Marion's Brigade" and " Ma- 
rion's men," have passed into household words, which the 
young utter with an enthusiasm much more confiding than 
that which they yield to the wondrous performances of 
Greece and Ilium. They recall, when spoken, a long and 
delightful series of brilliant exploits, wild adventures, by 



LIFE OF MARION 11 

day and night, in swamp and thicket, sudden and strange 
mantcuvres, and a generous, unwavering ardor, that 
never found any peril too hazardous, or any suffering too 
unendurable. The theme, thus invested, seems to have 
escaped the ordinary bounds of history. It is no longer 
within the province of the historian. It has passed into 
the hands of the poet, and seems to scorn the appeal to 
authentic chronicles. When we look for the record we 
find but little authority for a faith so confiding, and seem- 
ingly so exaggerated. The story of the Revolution in the 
soutliern colonies has been badly kept. Documentary 
proofs are few, bald and uninteresting. A simple para- 
graph in the newspapers, — those newspapers issued not un- 
frequently in cities where the enemy had power, and in the 
control of Editors, unlike the present, who were seldom 
able to expatiate upon the achievement which they record- 
ed ; — or the brief dispatches of the Captain himself, whose 
modesty would naturally recoil from stating more than the 
simple result of his performances ; — these are usually the 
sun" total of our authorities. The country, sparsely settled, 
and irequently overrun by the barbarous enemy, was incapa- 
ble of that patient industry and persevering care, which 
could chronicle the passing event, give place and date to 
the brilliant sortie, the gallant struggle, the individual deed 
of audacity, which, by a stroke, and at a moment, secures an 
undying remembrance in the bosoms of a people. The 
fame of Marion rests very much upon tradition. There 
is little in the books to justify the strong and exciting relish 
with which the name is spoken and remembered through- 
out the country. He was not a bloody warrior. His 
battle fields were never sanguinary. His ardor was never of 
a kind to make him imprudent. He was not distinguished 
for great strength of arm, or great skill in his weapon. 
We have no proofs that he was ever engaged in singln 



12 L I F E F M A R I N . 

combat : yet the concurrent testimony of all who have 
written, declare, in 2;eneral terms, his great services . and 
the very exaggeration of the popular estimate is a partial 
proof of the renown for which it speaks. In this respect, 
his reputation is like that of all other heroes of romantic 
history. It is a people's history, written in their hearts, 
rather than in their books ; which their books cv.uld not 
write — which would lose all its golden glow, if subjected 
to the cold details of the phlegmatic chronicles. The tra- 
dition, however swelling, still testifies to that large merit 
which must have been its basis, by reason of which the 
name of the hero was selected from all others for such 
peculiar honors ; and though these exaggerations suggest 
a thousand difficulties in the way of sob^ history, they 
yet serve to increase the desire, as well as the necessity, 
for some such performance. 



The family of Marion came from France. They mi- 
grated to South Carolina somewhere about the year 1690, 
within thirty years after the first British settlement of 
the province. They belonged, in the parent countr}'', to 
that sect of religious dissenters which bore the name of 
Huguenots ; and were among those who tied from the 
cruel persecutions which, in the beginning of the reign of 
Louis XIV., followed close upon the re-admission of the 
Jesuits into France. The edict of Nantz, wdiich had been 
issued under the auspices of Henri IV., and by which the 
Huo-uenots had been guarantied, with some slight qualifi- 
cations, the securities of the citizen, almost in the same 
degree with the Catholic inhabitants, had, under the weak 
and tyrannous sway of the former monarch,' proved totally 
inadequate to their protection. Long before its formal 
revocation, the unmeasured and inhuman persecutions to 
which they were subjected, drove thousands of them intc 



L I F E F M A Rl N. 13 

voluntary banishment.^ The subsequent decree of Louis, 
by which even the nominal securities of the Huguenots 
were withdrawn, increased the number of the exiles, and 
completed the sentence of separation from all those ties 
which bind the son to the soil. The neighboring Protestant 
countries received the fugitives, the number and condition 
of whom may be estimated by the simple fact, not com- 
monly known, that England alone possessed " eleven regi- 
ments composed entirely of these unhappy refugees, be- 
sides others enrolled among the troops of the line. There 
were in London twenty French churches supported by 
Government ; about three thousand refugees were main- 
tained by public subscription ; many received grants from the 
crown ; and cu great number lived by their own industry.* 
Some of the nobility were naturalized and obtained high 
rank ; among others, Ruvigny, son of the Marquis, was 
made Earl of Galway, and Schomberg received the dignity 
of Duke."t 

America, the new world, was naturally a land of refuge, 
and soon received her share of these unhappy fugitives. 
The transition was est^ from England to her colonies. 
Every facility was affor(|ed them for transportation, and the 
wise policy which encoilraged their settlement in the new 
countries was amply rewarded by the results. Altogether, 
the Huguenots were a' much better sort of people than 
those v/ho usually constituted the mass of European emi- 
grants. The very desperation of their circumstances was 

* M^moires et Observations faites par un Voyageur en An?le- 
terre, 12nio. La Haye, 1698, p. 362. auoted by Browning in 
his History of the Huguenots. 

t Browning.-V History of the Huguenots. London: Whitta- 
ker and Co. 1^40. pp. 256. Of the Refugees from France, 
Hume says, '= near fd"ty thousand passed over into England ;" 
and Voltaire writes that " one of the suburbs of London waj 
entirely peopled with French workers of silk." 



i4 LIFEOFMARION. 

a prDof of their virtues. They were a people of princi- 
ple, for they had suffered everything for conscience sake. 
They were a people of pure habits, for it was because 
of their religion that they suffered banishment. In little 
patriarchal groups of sixty, seventy, or eighty families, they 
made their way to different parts of America ; and with 
the conscious poverty of their own members, were gene- 
rally received with open arms by those whom they found 
in possession of the soil. The English, as they beheld 
the dependent and destitute condition of the fugitives, for- 
got, for a season, their usual national animosities ; and 
assigning ample tracts of land for their occupation, beheld 
them, without displeasure, settling down in exclusive colo- 
nies, in which they sought to maintain, as far as possible, 
the pious habits and customs of the mother country. One 
of these communities, comprising from seventy to eighty 
families, found their way to the banks of the Santee in 
South Carolina.* From this point they gradually spread 
themselves out so as to embrace, in partial settlements, 
the spacious tract of country stretching to the Winy ah, on 
the one hand, and the sources of Cooper River on the 
other ; extending upward into the interior, following the 
course of the Santee nearly to the point where it loses its 
identity in receiving the descending streams of the Wa- 
teree and Congaree. These settlers were generally poor. 
They had been despoiled of all their goods by the perse 
cutions which had driven them into exile. This, indeed, 
had been one of the favorite modes by which this result 
had been effected. Doubtless, also, |it had been, among 
the subordinates of the crown, one of the chief motives 
of the persecution. It was a frequent promise of his Je- 
suit advisers, to the vain and bigoted Louis, that the here- 

* Dalcho, m his Church History, says, " upwards of one 
hundred families." 



L I F E F M A R I O N . 15 

tics should je brought into the fold of the Church without 
a drop of bloodshed ; and, until the formal revocation of 
the edict of Nantz, by which the Huguenots were put 
without the pale and protection of the laws, spoliation was 
one of the means, with others, by which to avoid this ne- 
cessity. These alternatives, however, were of a kind not 
greatly to lessen the cruelties of the persecutor or the suf- 
ferings of the victim. It does not fall within our province 
to detail them. It is enough that one of the first and most 
obvious measures by which to keep their promise to the 
king, was to dispossess the proscribed subjects of their 
worldly goods and chattels. By this measure a two-fold 
object was secured. While the heretic was made to suffer, 
the faithful Vere sure of their reward. It was a principle 
faithfully kept in view ; and the refugees brought with 
them into exile, little beyond the liberties and the virtues 
for which they had endured so much. But these were 
possessions, as their subsequent history has shown, beyond 
all price. 

Our humble comnj||nity along the Santee had suffered 
the worst privations of their times and people. But, 
beyond the necessity of hard labor, they had little to de - 
plore, at the outset, in their new condition. They had 
been schooled sufficiently by misfortune to have acquired 
humility. They observed, accordingly, in their new re- 
lations, a policy equally prudent and sagacious. More 
flexible in their habits than the English, they conciliated 
the latter by deference ; and, soothing the unruly passions 
of the Indians — the Santee and Sewee tribes, who were 
still in considerable numbers in their immediate neighbor- 
hood — they won them to alliance by kindness and forbear- 
ance. From the latter, indeed, they learned their best 
lessons for the cultivation of the soil. That, upon which 
tliey found themselves, lay in the unbroken fore#t. The 



16 LIFEOFMARION 

high lands which they first undertook to clear, as less 
stubborn, were most sterile ; and, by a very natural mis- 
take, our Frenchmen adopted the modes and objects of 
European culture ; the grains, the fruits and the vegeta- 
bles, as well as the implements, to which they had been 
accustomed. The Indians came to their succor, taught 
them the cultivation of maize, and assisted them in the 
preparation of their lands ; in return for lessons thought 
equally valuable by the savages, to whom they taught, 
along with gentler habits and morals, a better taste for 
music and the dance ! To subdue the forest, of itself, 
to European hands, implied labors not unlike those of Her- 
cules. But the refugees, though a gentle race, were men 
of soul and strength, capable of great sacrificed, and pro- 
tracted self-denial. Accommodating themselves with a pa- 
tient courage to the necessities before them, they cheerful- 
ly undertook and accomplished their tasks. We have 
more than one lively picture among the early chroniclers 
of the distress and ha,rdship which they were compelled 
to encounter at the first. But, in Ujis particular, there 
was nothing peculiar in their situation. It differed in no 
respect from that which fell to the lot of all the early colo- 
nists m America. The toil of xelling trees, over whose 
heavy boughs and knotty arms the winters of centuries had 
passed; the constant danger from noxious reptiles and 
beasts of prey, which, coiled in the bush or crouching in 
the brake, lurkeil day and night, in waiting for the in- 
cautious victim ; and, most insidious and fatal enemy of 
all, the malaria of the swamp, of the rank and affluent soil, 
for the first time laid open to the sun ; these are all only 
the ordinary evils which encountered in America, at the 
very threshold, the advances of European civilisation. 
That the Huguenots should meet these toils and dangers 
with the sinews and the hearts of men, was to be expect* 



LXFEOFMARION. 17 

ed from iheii past experience and history. They nad en- 
dured loo many and too superior evils in the old world, to 
be discouraged by, or to shrink from, any of those which 
hung upon their progress in the new. Like the hardy 
Briton, whom, wnder the circumstances, we may readily sup- 
pose them to have enmlated, they addressed themselves, 
with little nmrmuring, to the tasks before them. We 
have, at the hands of one of their number, — a lady born and 
jaised in affluence at hom^, — a lively and touching picture 
of the sufferings and duties, which, in Carolina, at^that 
period, neither sex nor age was permitted to escape. " After 
our arrival," she writes, "we suffered every kind of evil, 
[n about eighteen months our elder brother, unaccustomed 
to the hard labor we were obliged to undergo, died of a 
fever. Since leaving France, we had experienced every 
kind of atHiction, disease, pestilence, famine, poverty ami 
hard labor ! I have been for six months together without 
tasting bread, working the ground like a slave ; and I have 
even passed three or four years without always having it 
when I wanted it. I should never have done were I to 
attempt to detail to you ail our adventures."* 

We may safely conclude that there was no exaggeration 
in this picture. The lot of all the refugees seems to have 
been very equally severe. Men and women, old and young, 
strove together in the most menial and laborious occupa- 
tions. But, as courage and virtue usually go hand in hand 
with industry, the three are apt to triumph together. Such 
was the history in the case of the Carolina Huguenots. If 
the labor and the suffering were great, the fruits were pros- 
perity. They were more. Honors, distinction, a goodly 

* The narrative of Mrs. Judith Maniga^alt, wife of Peter Ma- 
nigault, as quoted by Ramsay. — Hist. S. C. Vol. I. p., 4. For a 
graphic detail of the usual difficulties and dangers attending the 
escape of the Huguenots from Prance, at the period of migra- 
tion, see the first portion of this letter 



18 LIFEOFMAKION. 

name, and the love of those around them, ha\c blessed 
their posterity, many of whom rank with the noblest citi- 
zens that were ever reared in America. In a few year? 
after their first settlement, their forest homes were crowned 
with a degree of comfort, which is described as very far su- 
perior to that in the usual enjoyment of the British colonists. 
They were a more docile and tractable race ; not so rest- 
less, nor — though this may seem difficult to understand to 
those who consider their past history — so impatient of fo- 
reign control. Of their condition in Carolina, we have a 
brief but pleasing picture from the hands of John Lawson 
then surveyor-general Oi" the province of North Carolina * 
This gentlemai^ in 1701, just eleven years after its settle- 
ment, made a progress through that portion of the Hugue- 
not colony which lay immediately along the Santee. The 
passages which describe his approach to the country which 
they occupied, the hospitable reception which they gave 
him, the comforts they enjoyed, the gentleness of their hab- 
its, the simplicity of their lives, and their solicitude in be- 
half of strangers, are necessary to furnish the moral of those 
fortunes, the beginning of which was so severe and peril- 
ous. " There are," says he, " about seventy families seat- 
ed on this river, who live as decently and happily as ani) 
planters in these southward parts of J^merica. The French 
being a temperate, industrious people, some of them bringing 
very little of effects, yet, by their endeavors andmutual assist' 
ance among themselves (which is highly to be commended), 

* Lawson's " Journal of a Thousand Miles' Travel among the 
Indians, from South to North Carolina," is a work equally rare 
and interesting. This unfortunate man fell a victim to his 
official duties. He was confounded, by the savages, with the 
government which he represented, and sacrificed to their fury, 
under the charge of depriving them, by his surveys, of their land. 
He was made captive with the Baron de Graffenreid. The 
latter esc^i ed, but Lawson was subjected to the fire-torrure. 



LIFEOF MARION. *9 

kace oiUstrlpt oar JEnglish, who brought with them large*, for* 
tunes, though (as it seems) less endeavor to manage their 
talent to the best advantage. 'Tis admirable to see w^hat time 

and industry will (with God's blessing) effect," &c 

....*' We lay all that night at Mons Eugce''s (Huger), 
and the next morning set out farther, to go the remainder 
of our voyage by land. At ten o'clock we passed over a 
narrow, deep swamp, having left the three Indian men and 
one woman, that had piloted the canoe from Ashley river, 
having hired a Sewee Indian, a tall, lusty fellow, who car- 
ried a pack of our clothes, of great weight. X^^otwithstand 
ing his burden, we had much ado to keep pace with him. 
At noon we came up with several French plantations. 
Meeting with several creeks by the way, the French were 
very officious in assisting us with their small dories to pass 
over these waters : whom we met coming from their church, 
being all of them very clean and decent in their apparel; their 
houses and plantations suitable in neatness and contrivance^ 
They are all of the same opinion with the church of Gene- 
va,* there beino- no difference among: them concernino; the 
punctiUos of their Christian faith ; which union hath pro^ 
pagated a happy and delightful concord in all other matters 
throughout the whole neighborhood ; living amongst themselves 
as one tribe or kindred, every one making it his business to be 
assistant to the wants of his countrymen, preserving his estate 
and reputation with the same exactness and concern as he does 
his own : all seeming to share in the misfortunes, and rejoice 
'at the advance and rise of their brethren. Lawson fitly 

♦ " Thr inhabitants [of St. James, otherwise French Santee] 
petitioned the Assembly, in 1706, to have their settlement made 
a parish; and, at the same time, expressed their desire of being 
united to the Church of England, whose doctrines and discipline 
they professed hig-hly lo esteem. The Assembly passed an act, 
April 9, 17 06, to erect the French selllement of Santee into a 
parish." — Dalcko^s Historical Account, ch. ix., p. 295. 



20 LIFEOFMARION. 

concludes his account of the settlers upon the Santee, by 
describing them as " a very kind, loving, and affable peo- 
ple" — a cha^'acter v^hich it has been the happy solicitud'e 
of their descendants to maintain to the present day.* 

A more delightful picture than this of Mr. Lav^son, could 
not well be drawn by the social perfectionist. The rational 
beauty of the voluntary system could not find a happier 
illustration ; and, duly impressed with its loveliness, we 
shall cease to wonder at the instances of excellence, equally 
frequent and admirable, which rose up among this little 
group of exiles, to the good fortune of the country which 
gave them shelter, and in attestation of their own virtues. 
But this happy result was due entirely to their training. 
It would be wonderful, indeed, if such an education, toil 
and watch, patient endurance of sickness and suffering, 
sustained only by sympathy with one another and a humble 
reliance upon divine mercy, should not produce many per- 
fect characters — men like Francis Marion, the beautiful 
symmetry of whose moral structure leaves us nothing to 
regret in the analysis of his life. Uncompromising in the 
cause of truth, stern in the .prosecution of his duties, hardy 
and fearless as the soldier, he was yet, in peace, equally 
gentle and compassionate, pleased to be merciful, glad and 
ready to forgive, sweetly patient of mood, and distinguished 
throughout by such prominent virtues, that, while always 
sure of the affections of followers and comrades, he was 
not less secure in the unforced confidence of his enemies, 
among whom his integrity and mercy were proverbial. By 
their fruits, indeed, shall we know this community, th 

* See ** A new Voyage to Carolina, containing the exact de- 
sciiption and natural history of that country, &c. ; and a journey 
of a thousand miles, travelled through several nations of Indian;^ 
By John Lawson, G^nt., Surveyor-General of North Carolina 
l^ondon, 1709." 



I. I F E OF M A R I N . 21 

history of which furnishes as hne a commentary flpon the 
benefit of good social training for the young — example and 
precept happily keeping concert with the ordinary necessi- 
ties and performances of life, the one supported by the 
manliest courage, the other guided by the noblest princi- 
ple — as any upon record.* 

When our traveller turned his back upon this " kind, 
loviag, and affable people," to pursue his journey into 

* It is one of the qualifications of the delight which the histo- 
rian feels while engaged in the details of those grateful episodes 
which frequently reward his progress through musty chronicles, 
to find himself suddenly arrested in his narrative by some o: 
those rude interruptions by which violence and injustice disfigure 
so frequently, in the march of history, the beauty of its portraits. 
One of these occurs to us in this connection. Our Huguenot 
settlers on the Santee were not long suffered to pursue a career 
of unbroken prosperity. The very fact that ikey prospered— 
that, in the language of Mr. Lawson, " they outstript our Eng- 
lish," when placed in like circumstances — that they were no 
longer desolate and dependent, and had grown vigorous, and 
perhaps wanton, in the smiles of fortune — was quite enough to 
re-awaken in the bosoms of " our English" the ancient national 
grudge upon which they had so often fed before. The prejudices 
and hostilities which had prevailed for centuries between their 
respective nations, constituted no small part of the moral stock 
which the latter had brought with them into the wilderness. 
This feeling was farther heightened, at least maintained, by the 
fact that France and England had contrived to continue their old 
warfare in the New World ; and, while French emissaries were 
busy in the back parts of the colony, stimulating the Creeks a.nd 
Cherokees to hostility, it was perhaps natural enough that the 
English, whose frontiers were continually ravaged in conse- 
quence, should find it easy 'to confound the ^^ parley-vous,'^ their 
enemies, with those, their neighbors, who spoke the same unpo- 
pular language. It is not improbable, on the other hand, that 
the Huguenot settlers were a little too exclusive, a little to«. 
tenacious of their peculiar habits, manners, and language. The^ 
did not suffer themselves to assimilate with their neighbors ; but, 
maintaining the policy by which they had colonized in a body, 
had been a little too anxious to preserve themselves as a singular 
and separate people. In this respect they were not unlike the 
English puritans, iriwhom and their descendants, this passion 
for homogeneousness has always been thought a sort of merit^ 



22 LIFE OF MARION. 

North Carolina, his first forward step was into a howling 
wilderness The Santee settlement, though but forty miles 
distant from Charleston, was a frontier — all beyond was 
waste, thicket and forest, filled with unknown and fearful 
animals, and 

*' sUding reptiles of the ground, 
Startlingly beautiful," — 

which the footstep of man dreaded to disturb. Of the 
wild beasts by which it was tenanted, a single further 
extract from the journal of Mr. Lawson will give us a 
sufiicient and striking idea. He has left the Santee settle- 
ments but a single day — probably not more than fifteen 
miles. His Indian companion has made for his supper a 
bountiful provision, having killed three fat turkeys in the 
space of half an hour. " When we were all asleep," says 
our traveller, '' in the beginning of the night, we were 
awakened with the dismallest and most hideous noise that 
ever pierced my ears. This sudden surprisal incapacitated 
us of guessing what this threatening noise might proceed 

appealing very much to their self-esteem and pride. In the case 
of the French colonists, whether tlie fault was theirs or not, the 
evil results of being, or making themselves, a separate people, 
were soon perceptible. They were subjected to various political 
and social disabilities, and so odious had they become to their 
British neighbors, that John Archdale, one of the proprietors, a 
man like Wm. Penn (and by Grahame, the nistorian, pronounced 
very far his superior), equally beloved by all parties, as a man just 
and fearless, was, when Governor of the colony, compelled to 
deny them representation in the cojonial Assembly, under pe- 
nalty of making invalid all his attempts at proper government. 
Under this humiliating disability the Huguenots lived and labored 
for a considerable period, until the propriety of their lives, the 
purity of their virtues, and their frequently-tried fidelity in the 
cause of the country, forced the majority to be just. An act, 
passed in 1696, making all aliens, then inhabitants, free — enabling 
them to hold lands and to claim the same as heirs — according 
liberty of conscience to all Christians (except Papists), &c. — 
placed our refugees on a footing of equality with the rest of tlie 
inhabitants, and put an end to the old hostilities between them. 



LIFEOF MARION. 23 

O.'om ; but our Indian pilot (who knew these parts very 
well) acquainted us that it was customary to hear such 
musick along that s^amp-side, there being endless num- 
bers of panthers, tygers, wolves, and other beasts of prey, 
which take this swamp for their abode in the day, coming 
in whole droves to hunt the deer in the night, making this 
frightful ditty till day appears, then all is still as in other 
places."— Pa^e 26. 

Less noisy, except in battle, but even more fearful, were 
the half-human possessors of the same regions, the savages, 
who, at that period, in almost countless tribes or families, 
hovered around the habitations of the European Always 
restless, commonly treacherous, warring or preparing for 
war, the red men required of the white borderer the vigi- 
lance of an instinct which was never to be allowed repose. 
This furnished an additional school for the moral and 
physical training of our young Huguenots. In this school, 
w^ithout question, the swamp and forest partisans of a 
future day took some of their first and most valuable 
lessons in war. Here they learned to be watchful and 
circumspect, cool in danger, steady in advance, heedful of 
every movement of the foe, and — which is of the very last 
importance in such a country and in such a warfare as it 
indicates — happily dextrous in emergencies to seize upon 
the momentary casualty, the sudden chance — to convert 
the most trivial circumstance, the most ordinary agent, into 
a means of extrication or offence. It was in this last res- 
pect particularly, in being quick to see, and prompt to 
avail themselves of the happy chance or instrument, that 
the partisans of the revolution in the southern colonies, 
under Marion and others, asserted their vast superiority 
over the invader, and maintained their ground, and obtained 
their final triumph, in spite of every inequality of arms and 
numbers 



CHAPTER il. 

The Marion faiaily — Birth of Francis Marion. — His 1 /utli.-— 
Shipwreck 

We have dwelt upon the Huguenot Settlement m Caro- 
lina, somewhat more largely than our immediate subject 
would seem to require. Our apology must be found in the 
obvious importance and beauty of the fact, could this be 
shown, that the character of Francis Marion was in truth 
a remarkable illustration, in all its parts, of the moral na- 
ture which prevailed in this little colony of exiles : that, 
from the harmony existing among them, their purity of 
conduct, propriety of sentiment, the modesty of their de- 
portment and the firmness of their virtues, he most natu- 
rally drew all the components of his own. His hardihood, 
elasticity, great courage and admirable dexterity in war, 
were also the natural results of their frontier position. 
We do not pretend that his acquisitions were at all peculiar 
to himself. On the contrary, we take for granted, that 
every distinguished person will, in some considerable de- 
gree, betray in his own mind and conduct, the most strik- 
ing of those characteristics, which mark the community in 
which he has had his early training ; that his actions will^ 
in great measure, declare what sort of moral qualities have 
been set before his eyes, not so much by his immediate 
family, as by the society at large in which he lives ; that 
he will represent that society rather than his immediate 



LIFkeFMARlON. 25 

family, as it is the nature of superior minds to rush out 
of the narrow circles of domestic life ; and that his whole 
after-performances, even where he may appear in the garb 
and guise of the reformer, will indicate in numerous vital 
respects, the tastes and temper of the very people whose 
alteration and improvement he seeks. The memoir upon 
which we are about to enter, will, we apprehend, justify 
the preliminary chapter which has been given to the history 
of the Huguenots upon the Santee. Benjamin Marion, the 
grandfather of our subject, was one of those who left 
France in 1690. His son, named . Gabriel, married 
Esther Cordes, by whom he had six children, of 
whom bui one was a daughter.* Francis Marion was 
the last. He was born at Winyah, near Georgetown, 
South Carolina, in 1732 ; a remarkable year, as, in a sister 
colony (we are not able to say how nearly at the same 
time), it gave birth to George Washington. This coinci- 
dence, which otherwise it might seem impertinent to notice 
here, derives some importance from the fact that it does 
not stand alone, but is rendered impressive by others, to 
be shown as we proceed ; not-^to speak of the striking 
moral resemblances, which it will be no disparagement, to 
the fame of the great Virginian to trace between the two. 
The infancy of Marion was unpromising. At birth he 
was puny and diminutive in a remarkable degree. Weems, 
in his peculiar fashion, writes, " I have it from good au- 
thority, that this great soldier, at his birth, was not larger 

* Weems speaks of six children only, naming all the sons, and 
the single daughter. Of her, he frankly says, " I have never heard 
what became ; but for his four brothers, I am happy to state, that 
though not formidable as soldiers, they were very amiable as citi- 
zens." James tells us of two daughters, not naming either, but de« 
scribing them as "grandmothers of the families of the Mitchells, of 
Georgetown, and of the Dwights, formerly of the same place, but 
now of St, Stephen's parish." Such particularity might be pre* 
Bumed tc settle the question ; yet he seems to have been in error 



26 LIFEOF MARION. 

than a New England lobster, and might easily enougl 
have been put into a quart pot." It was certainly as lit- 
tle supposed that he should ever live to manhood, as that 
he should then become a hero. Bat, by the time that he 
had reached his twelfth year, his constitution underwent a 
change. His health became good. The bracing exercises 
and hardy employments of country life invigorated his 
frame, and with this improvement brought with it a rare 
increase of energy. He grew restless and impatient. The 
tendency of his mind, which was so largely developed in 
the partisan exercises of after years, now began to exhibit 
itself. Under this impulse he conceived a dislike to the 
staid ancl monotonous habits of rural life, and resolved upon 
seafaring as a vocation. Such, it may be remarked, was 
also the early passion of Washington ; a passion rather 
uncommon in the history of a southern farmer's boy. In 
tlie case of Washington the desire was only overcome at 
the solicitations of his mother. The mother of Marion, 
in like manner, strove to dissuade her son from this early 
inclination. She did not succeed, however, and when 
scarcely sixteen, he- embarked in a small vessel for the 
West Indies. The particulars of this voyage, with the ex- 
ception of the mode in which it terminated, have eluded 
our inquiry. We have looked for the details in vain. 
The name of the vessel, the captain, the port she sailed 
from, have equally escaped our search. To the wanton 
destruction of private and public records by the British, to- 
gether with the heedless improvidence of heads of families 
in the South, we owe this poverty of historical resource. 
The voyage must have been taken somewhere about the 
year 1747-8. At that period there were perils of the sea 
to which the mariner is not often exposed at the present 
day. The waters of the Gulf of Mexico, in particular, 
>were covered with piratt^. The rich produce of NeAv 



LIFEOF MARION. 27 

Spain, the iVest Indies, and the Southern Colonies of the 
J<]nglish, were rare temptations. The privateers of Spain 
and France, a sort of legahzed pirates, hung about the 
ports of Carohna, frequently subjecting them to a condi" 
tion of blockade, and sometimes to forced contributions. 
In the occasional absence of the British armed vessels ap* 
pointed for the protection of these ports, the more enter- 
prising and spirited among their citizens frequently fitted 
out their own cruisers, drawing them, for this purpose, 
from the merchant service ; manning them in person, and 
requiting themselves for their losses of merchandize by the 
occasional capture of some richly laden galleon from New 
Spain. No doubt the imagination of young Marion was 
fired by hearing of these exploits. The sensation produced 
in the community, by the injuries done to its commerce, 
m all probability gave the direction to his already excited 
and restless disposition. It does not appear, however, that 
Marion's first and only voyage was made in an armed ves- 
sel. Such, we may well suppose, would have been his 
desire ; but the period when he set forfti to procure ser- 
vice upon the seas, may not have been auspicious. He 
may have reached the seaport a moment too soon or toe 
late, and the opportunities of this kind were necessarily in - 
frequent in a small and frontier city, whose commerce lay 
mostly in the hands of strangers. His small size and puny 
appearance must have operated very much against his 
hopes of obtaining employment in a service which particu- 
larly calls for manhood and muscle. In what capacity, or 
in what sort of vessel he obtained a berth, we are left 
wholly to conjecture. Choosing the sea as a vocation, 
and laudably resolved on acquiring a proper knowledge 
of his business (as from what we know of his charac- 
ter, we may suppose was the case), he most probably went 
before the mast His first and only voyage was unfortu- 



88 L I FE O F M AI. f O N. 

nate. The ship in which he sailed was no doubt equally 
frail and small. She foundered at sea , whether going or 
returning is not said ; in consequence, we are told of in- 
juries received from the stroke of a whale, of the thorn- 
back species. So suddenly did she. sink, that her crew, 
only six in number, had barely time to save themselves 
They escaped to the jolly-boat, saving nothing but their 
lives. They took with them neither water nor provisions ; 
and for six days, hopeless of succor, they lay tossing to 
and fro, upon the bald and cheerless ocean. A dog, which 
swam to them from the sinking vessel, was sacrificed to 
their hunger. His raw flesh was their only food, his blood 
their only drink, during this distressing period. Two of 
their number perished miserably.* The survivors, on the 

* Weems represents the captain and mate, as throwing them- 
selves overboard in a state of jshrenzy, and there is nothing 
improbable or unnatural in the statement. Privation of food, 
the use of salt water, and exposure in an open boat to a burning 
sun, might very well produce such an effect. The only difficul- 
ty, however, consists in the simple fact that we have no other 
authority for the stty-ement. James is silent on the point, and 
contents himself witli simply stating the death of two of the 
crew. Weems, however, adds that of two others, whose end re- 
ceives, as usual, quite a dramatic finish at his hands. He suffers 
none to live but "little Marion," and, in the exuberance of his 
imagination, actually goes so far as to describe the particular 
food " chocolate and turtle broth," by which the youthful hero 
is recruited and recovered. By this he designs to show, more 
emphatically, the immediate interposition, in his behalf, of an es- 
pecial Providence. The truth is, that any attempt at details 
where so little is known to have been preserved, must necessa- 
rily, of itself, subject to doubt any narrative not fortified by the 
most conclusive evidence. Unfortunately for the reverend his- 
torian, his known eccentricities as a writer, and fondness for 
hyperbole, must always deprive his books — though remarkably 
useful and interesting to the young — of any authority which 
might be claimed for them as histories. As fictions from histo- 
ry, lively and romantic, they are certainly very astonishing per- 
formances, have amused and benefited thousands, and entitle 
the writer to a rank, in a peculiar walk of letters, which has not 
yet been assigned him. 



LiyEOFMARION. 29 

seventh daj were found and taken up by a passing vessel, 
nourished carefully and finally restored to their homes. 

Francis Marion was one of these survivors. The puny 
boy lived through the terrors and sufferings under which 
the strong men perished. So intense were their sufferings, 
so terrible the trial, that it will not greatly task the 
imagination to recognize in the preservation of the youth, — 
looking to his future usefulness — the agency of a special 
providence. The boy was preserved for other times and 
fortunes ; and, in returning to his^ mother, was perhaps 
better prepared to heed her entreaties that he should 
abandon all idea of an element, from which his escape had 
been so hazardous and narrow. It was well for himself and 
country that he did so. It can scarcely be conjectured that 
his achievements on the sea would have been half so 
fortunate, or half so honorable to himself and country, as 
those which are now coupled with his name. 

Returning to his home and parents, young Marion sunk 
once more into the humble condition of the farmer. His 
health and strength had continued to improve. His ad- 
ventures by sea had served, seemingly, to complete that 
change for the better, in his physical man, which had been 
so happily begun on land ; and, subduing his roving incli- 
nations, we hear of him only, in a period of ten years, as a 
tiller of the earth. In this vocation he betrayed that 
diligent attention to his duties, that patient hardihood, and 
calm, equable temper, which distinguished his deportment 
in every part of his career. He is represented as equally 
industrious and successful as a farmer. The resources of 
his family seem to have been very moderate. There were 
several children, and before Francis was yet twenty-five 
years of age, he lost his father. In 175S he was planting 
with his mother and brother Gabriel, near Frien-ons Lock 
on the Santee Canal. In 1759 they separated Gabrie) 



3li LIFEOFMARION. 

removed to Belle Isle — the place where the . nortal re- 
mains of Francis Marion mow repose — while the latter 
settled at a place called Pond Bluff in the Parish of St. 
John. This place he continued ^o hold during life. It is 
still pointed out to the travellei as Marion's plantation, 
and is the more remarkable, as it lies within cannon shot 
of the battle ground of Eutaw, which his valor and con- 
duct contributed to render so justly famous in the history 
of his native state. During this long period of repose — the 
interval between his shipwreck, and removal to Pond 
Bluff, — we are only left to conjecture his employments. 
Beyond his agricultural labors, we may suppose that his 
chief tasks were the cul#vation of his mind, by close ap- 
pltcation to those studies which, in the condition of the 
country, sparsely settled, and without teachers, were usual- 
ly very inadequately urged. It does not appear that his 
acquisitions in this respect were more valuable than could 
be afforded at the present day by the simplest grammar- 
school of the country. Here again we may trace the re- 
semblance between his career and that of Washington. 
Equally denied the advantages of education, they equally 
drew from the great mother-sources of nature. Thrown 
upon their own thoughts, taught by observation and ex- 
perience — the same results of character, — firmness, temper- 
ance, good sense, sagacious foresight, and deliberate 
prudence — became conspicuous in the conduct and career 
of both. In the fortunes of neither — in the several tasks 
allotted to them, — in their various situations, — did their 
deficiencies of education appear to qualify their successes, 
or diminish the respect and admiration of those around 
them, — a singular fact, as indicative equally of the modesty, 
the good sense, and the superior intrinsic worth of both of 
th« se distinguished persons. In the case of Marion, his 
• Qt of education neither lessened his energies, or con- 



LIFEOFKARION 31 

fideiice in himself, nor baffled any of his natural endow- 
ments. On the contrary, it left his talents free to their 
natural direction. These, it is probable, were never of a 
kind to derive, or to need, many advantages from a very 
superior or scientific education. His mind was rather 
practical than subtile — his genius prompted him to action^ 
rather than to study, — and the condition and necessities of 
the country, calling for the former rather than the latter 
character, readily reconciled him to a deficiency the isa 
portance of which he did not feel. 



CHAPTER III 

Marion a Farmer. — Volunteers in the Cherokee Campaign. 

Feom the readiness with which young- Marion yielded 
himself to the entreaties of his mother, and resumed the 
occupations of agriculture, and from the quiet and perse- 
vering industry with which he pursued them for a period 
of nearly or quite ten years, it might be supposed that 
the impatience and restlessness of mood, which had for 
merly led him to revolt at the staid drudgery of rural life, 
had been entirely extinguished in his bosom. But such 
was not the case. It was only subdued, and slumbering 
for a season, ready to awaken at the first opportunity, 
with all the vigor and freshness of a favorite passion 
That opportunity was at hand. Events were in progress 
which were to bring into the field, and prepare by the 
very best sort of training, for the most noble trials, the 
great military genius of the Partisan. At the opening of 
the year 1759, the colony of South Carolina was on the 
eve of an Indian war. The whole frontier of the Southern 
Provinces, from Pennsylvania to Georgia, was threatened 
by the savages, and the scalping-knife had already begun 
its bloody work upon the weak and unsuspecting borderers. 
The French had been conquered upon the Ohio. Forts 
FrontenaC and Duquesne had fallen. British and Pro- 
vincial valor, aided by strong bodies of Cherokee warriors. 



L I F E F M A R I N . 31 

had everywhere placed the flag of Britain above the for- 
tresses of France. With its elevation, the Indian allies of 
the French sent in their adhesion to the conquerors ; and, 
their work at an end, the Cherokee auxiliaries cf Britain 
prepared to return to their homes, covered with their 
savage trophies, and adequately rev/arded for their services 
It happened, unfortunately, that, wdiile passing along th" 
frontiers of Virginia, the Cherokees, many of whom had 
lost their horses during the campaign, supplied themselves 
rather unscrupulously from the pastures of the colonists 
With inconsiderate anger, the Virginians, forgetting tb« 
late valuable services of the savages, rose upon their foot* 
steps, slew twelve or fourteen of their warrior*^, and m?do 
prisoners of as many more. This rash and ill-advise/^ 
severity aroused the nation. The young warriors flew to 
arms, and pouring their active hordes upon the frontier 
settlements, proceeded to the v/ork of slaughter, without 
pausing to discriminate between the oflending and the 
innocent. The emergency was pressing, and Governor 
Lyttleton, of South Carolina, called out the mihtia of the 
pro,if,ce. They were required to rendezvous at the CoU' 
garees, nbout one hundred and forty miles from Charleston. 
To this rendezvous Francis IMarion repaired, in a troop of 
provincial- cavalry commanded by one of his brothers.* 
But he v/as not yet to flesh his m.aiden valor upon the 
enemy. The prompt preparation of the Carohnians had 
somewhat lessened the appetite of the savages for war, 
Perhaps their own preparations were not yet sufficiently 
complete to make them hopeful of its issue. The young 
v/arriors were recalled from the frontiers, and a deputation 
of thirty-two chiefs set out for Charleston, in ordei to pro- 
pitiate the anger of the v/hites, and arrest the threatened 
invasion of their country. Whether they were since-e in 

* Judge James' Life of Marion, p. 17. 



34 LIFEOFMARION. 

their professions, or simply came for the purpose of de- 
luding and disarming the Carolinians, is a question with 
the historians. It is certain that Governor Lyttleton 
doubted their sincerity, refused to listen to their explana- 
tions, and, carrying them along with him, rather as host- 
ages than as commissioners in sacred trust, he proceeded 
to meet the main body of his army, already assembled at 
the Congarees. The treatment to which they were thus 
subjected, filled the Cherokee deputies with indignation, 
which, with the usual artifice of the Indian, they yet con- 
trived to suppress. But another indiscreet proceeding of 
the Governor added to the passion which they felt, and 
soon baffled all their powers of concealment. In resuming 
the march for the nation, he put them into formal custo- 
dy, placed a captain's guard over them, and in this manner 
hurried them to the frontiers. Whatever may have been 
the merits of this movement as a mere military precau- 
tion, it was of very bad policy in a civil point of view. 
It not only degraded the Indian chiefs in their own, but in 
the eyes of their people. His captives deeply and openly 
resented this indignity and breach of faith ; and, brooding 
in sullen ferocity over the disgrace which they suffered, 
meditated in silence those schemes of vengeance which 
they subsequently brought to a fearful maturity. But 
though thus impetuous and imprudent, and though press- 
ing forward as if with the most determined purposes, 
Lyttleton was in no^ mood for war. His policy seems to 
have contemplated nothing further than the alarm of the 
Indians. Neither party was exactly ripe for the final 
issue. The Cherokees needed time for preparation, and the 
Governor, with an army ill disci])lined and imperfectly 
armed, found it -lolitic, when on the very confines of the 
enemy's country to do that which he might very well 
havft done in Charleston — listen to terms of accommodation 



L I F E F M A U ] N. 35 

Having sent for Attakullakullali, the wise man of the 
nation, who had always been the staunch friend of the 
whites, he made his complaints, and declared his readiness 
for peace ; — demanding, however, as the only condition on 
which it could be granted, that twenty-four men of the 
nation should be delivered to him, to be disposed of as he 
should thirdv proper, by death or otherwise, as an atone- 
ment for that number of Carolinians, massacred in the late 
foray of the savages. A treaty was effected, but with 
some difficulty on these terms. Compliance with this 
requisition was not so easy, however, on the part of the 
Cherokee chiefs. The moment it was understood, the 
great body of their people fled to the mountains, and the 
number of hostages could be secured only by the detention 
of twenty-two of those chiefs already in the Governor's 
custody. The captives were placed, for safe keeping, at 
the frontier fort of Prince George. 

But the natural sense of the savage is not inferior to that 
by which the laws of the civilized are prescribed, in their 
dealings with one another. The treaty thus extorted from 
their leaderS;^while in a state of duresse, v/as disregarded 
Dy the great body of the nation. They watched their op- 
portunity, and, scarcely had the Governor disbanded his 
forces, when the war-whoop resounded from the frontiers. 

Fort Prince George was one of the most remote of a 
chain of military posts by which the intercourse was main- 
tained between the several white settlements of the sea- 
board and the interior. It stood on the banks of the Isun- 
diga River, about three hundred miles from Charleston, 
within gunshot of the Indian town of Keowee. This post, 
to which the Cherokee hostages w^cre earned, was defend- 
ed by cannon, and maintained by a small force under Colo 
nel Cotymore. It was in this neighborhood, and, as it 
were in defiance of this f .;rce, that the war w^as begiip. 



36 L I F E F SI A R I W 

Fourteen whites were massacred at a blow, within a rnile 
of this station. This was followed up by a stratagtim, by 
whicli Occonostota, one of the principal warriors, aimed 
to obtain possession of the fort. Pretending to have some- 
♦■hing of importance to communicate to the commander, he 
dispatched a woman who had usually obtained access to 
the station, to solicit an interview with him. This was to 
take place on the banks of the river. Meanwhile the 
savage prepared his ambush. Cotymore imprudently as- 
sented to the meeting,^ and, attended b}^ Lieutenants Bell 
and Foster, walked down towards the river, from the oppo- 
site side of which Occonostota addressed him. While 
they spoke, the Indian was seen to wave a bridle over his 
head. This was the signal agreed upon with the ambushed 
warriors. At this signal they rose and poured in their fire. 
Cotymore was slain on the spot, and his companions 
wounded. But the savages failed to get possession of the 
Tort. Suspecting a concerted movement among the hosta- 
ges, by which they would co-operate with the assailing foe 
without, the officer in command of the fort gave orders to 
secure them with irons. The attempt to obey these or- 
ders ended in a bloody tragedy. The Indians resisted with 
arms, and, stabbing three of the soldiers, so e ?c^sperated 
the- rest, already excited by the murder of their captain, 
that they fell upon the miserable wretches and butchered 
them to a man. 

This unhappy event, completing what the indiscreet 
severities of Governor Lyttleton had begun, united the 
whole nation of Cherokees in war. There had been a 
strong party favorable to peace, and friendly to the whites. 
This unfortunate proceeding involved the loss of this party 
The hostages were among their chief men, and scarcely a 
family in the nation but lost a relative or friend in their 
•nassacre They v/ere now unanimous for battle ; and, 



LIFEOF MARION- 3? 

numerous parties rushing simultaneously down upon the 
frontiers, baffled the courage and prevented the flight of 
the fugitives. They fell without distinction upon men^ 
women and children. " Such as fled to the woods and es- 
caped the scalping-knife, perished of hunger. . ". . Everj 
day brought fresh j^ccounts to the capital of their ravages, 
murders and desolations. But w^hiie the back settlera 
looked to their governor for relief, the small-pox raged to 
such a degree m town that few of the militia could be pre- 
vailed upon to leave their distressed families to serve the 
public."* Lyttleton, meanwhile, by whom all the mis- 
chief was occasioned, was made Governor of Jamaica, and 
the charge of the colony devolved on William Bull, a na- 
tive — " a man of great integrity and erudition." In the 
almost hopeless condition of the province, her sisters, 
North Carolina and Virginia, raised seven troops of rangers 
for the frontiers ; and Colonel Montgomery, afterwards 
Earl of Eglintoun, was dispatched from Canada, with a 
battalion of Highlanders and four companies of Royal 
Scots. Before the end of April, 1760, the camp of ren- 
dezvous for a new invasion of the Cherokee territories was 
established at Monk's Corner. Meanwhile, the health of 
Carolina had undergone some improvement, and the gen- 
tlemen of the country were not idle. They turned out in 
force as volunteers, and under the spirited direction of 
Governor Bull, the whole disposable force of the province 
was put in requisition. Among these, it is not so sure, but 
is believed, that Francis Marion once more made his ap 
pearance as a volunteer. From what we know of his cha- 
racter, his temperament, and that unsatisfied craving which 
he seems to have shown from the beginning for such ex- 
citements, it is reasonable to infer his presence in the field. 
But, though asserted by tradition, we confess thsit the 

• Hewatt's Hist S. C. 



38 L r F E F a.! A R I O N . 

records are silt^nt on the subject. Unsatisfactory as at 
that period they generally are, on this point they are par- 
ticularly so ; and but that his share in this war, before its 
final conclusion, was not only unquestionable but conspicu- 
ous, we should pass over the campaign of Montgomery, 
with a simple reference to its results. 

The Cherokees, meanwhile, were not unobservant o 
the p^-eparations and approaches of the Carolinians. They 
gathered themselves up for defence, and in silence matur- 
ed their half civilized, half primitive modes of warfore 
This people, at the period of w^hich we writ z^, were a people 
of very superior endowments and resources to any of the 
neighboring savage nations. If less warlike, in the simple 
sense of the word, than their rivals the Creeks, they were 
really more to be feared, as it was in consequence of their 
superior civilization that they had lost some of their brute 
ferocity. If they were less reckless, they were better 
skilled ; if less frantic in their fury, they coupled it with 
a wary vindictiveness which rendered the blow more fatal 
when it fell. The advances which they had made in civ- 
ihzation had naturally increased their numbers ; while the 
novel tastes by which their wandering habits were dimin- 
ished, had necessarily added to their love of country, in add- 
ing to the resources and improvements by which its 
comfotts and delights v/ere increased. Thus, neithei 
degraded by the lowest condition in which we find the 
human animal, nor enervated by the superior luxuries to 
which he may attain, the Cherokee was perhaps at this 
time in possession of his greatest vigor ; not very remote, 
in his moral and phj^sical condition, from the Roman when 
he overcame his Etrurian and Sabine neighbors. The 
Cherokees occupied a country equally broad and beautiful 
It .ay in fertile valleys, green meadows, sunny slopes, 
and mighty forests, along the sides of lofty summits, that 



L r F E F M A R I N . 39 

circled their extensive territory with natural fortresses 
of giant grandeur. Spreading from the Broad, or Chero- 
kee river, beyond the Tennessee and the Savannah, it 
comprised every variety of soil and surface, and while 
adapted in a high degree to the hands of the agriculturist, 
seemed almost as easily made secure against the footsteps 
of invasion. Its apparent securities had made them inso- 
lent. Their mountain recesses had never known the 
presence of this foe. Their fruits and fields, their villages 
and towns, with the exception of a district that lay upon 
the Atlantic slopes, were- generally fenced in, and admirably 
protected, by wild and rugged masses of rocky mountains, 
natural defences, impenetrable, unless through certaiL 
passes which a few determined hearts might easily make 
good against twenty times their number. But the nu- 
merical force of this great aboriginal people seemed of 
itself sufficiently strong to promise security to their country. 
At the time of Montgomery's invasion they had no less than 
sixty-four towns and villages la an emergency, they could 
send six thousand warriors into the field. Many of these 
were armed Vv^ith the weapons of European warfare — were 
accustomed to that warfare, and were thus doubly prepared 
to encounter the enemy in whose ranks they had received 
their best military lessons. Such a force very far exceeded 
that of the Carolinians. Mustering but two thousand men, 
Col. Montgomery found it advisable to urge his march 
upon the nation with equal celerity and caution. Having 
reached a place called Twelve-mile River, within twenty 
miles of the Indian town of Estatoee, he advanced by night 
upon it, secretly, and with a view to its surprise. In his 
march, surrounding the town of Little Keowee, not a war- 
rior of the Cherokees escaped the sword. His success was 
less complete at Estatoee. The Indians, apprised of his 
approach, with few exceptions, succeeded in making theii 



40 LIFE OP MARION. 

escape ; but tlie town, consisting of more than two hundred 
houses, and well stored with corn, hogs, poultry and ammu- 
nition, perished in the flames. Shugaw Town and every 
other settlement in the " Lower Nation," shared the same 
fate. The lightning-like rapidity of the march had taken 
the savages everywhere, in this part of the country, by 
surprise. They fled rather than fought, and while they 
lost everything in the shape of property, but few of them 
were slain. They sought for shelter among their more 
numerous and better protected brethren of the mountains ; 
a people neither so easily approached^ nor so easily 
overcome. 

Montgomery, having finished this part of his work so 
successfully, hurried on to the relief of Fort Prince George, 
which, from the time when their Chiefs were so cruelly 
butchered within its walls, had been closely invested by a 
formidable force of Cherokees. The fort was relieved. 
The Indians fled at his approach ; and, thinking that the 
severe chastisement which he had inflicted upon them, 
had inclined their hearts to peace, the General of the 
Carolinians paused in his progress, to give them an oppor- 
tunity to sue for it, as the former friends and allies of 
the English. But he had mistaken the stubborn nature of 
his foe. They were not sufficiently humbled, and it was 
resolved to .march upon the "middle settlements." To 
this task, that which had been performed v/as compara- 
tively easy. They were now to enter upon a differ- 
ent country, where the Indians were better prepared for 
them — nay, where they had prepared for them, — in all 
probability, to the neglect of the lower towns. Toilsome 
and full of peril was this march. Dismal and dense was 
the wilderness which they were now to penetrate. Rugged 
paths, narrow passes, gloomy thickets and dark ravines, 
encountered them in their hourly progress, calling for coii- 



LIFEOF^ MARION. 41 

stant vigilance and the maintenance of all their courage 
Rivers, fordable in unirequent places and overlooked by 
precipitous banks on either side, crowned most commonly 
by dense and intricate masses of forest, through which 
and without a guide, our little army was compelled to 
pass, — presented opportunities for frequent ambush and at- 
tack, in which, very inferior forces, if properly commanded, 
might, w^ith little dang-er to themselves, overwhelm and 
utterly destroy an advancing enemy. It was in such a 
region that the Cherokees made their first and formidable, 
stand. Within five miles of Etchoee, the nearest town of 
the middle settlements, the army of Montgomery approach- 
ed a low valley, clothed with a thicket so dense that the 
soldiers could scarcely discern objects three paces ahead. 
Through this thicket ran a muddy river, enclosed between 
""steep banks of clay. This passage, where but few men 
could act in unison, was that through which it became 
necessary that the army should proceed. It was the very 
spot, which, over all others, a sagacious warrior would 
choose in which to place an ambush, or meet a superior 
assailant. Montgomery knew his enemy, and prepared for 
the encounter. Captain Morrison, commanding a company 
of rangers, native marksmen and well acquainted with the 
forest — was sent forward to scour the thicket. His ad- 
vance was the signal for battle. Scarcely had he entered 
upon the dismal passage when the savages rose from their 
hiding-places and poured in a severe fire. Morrison, with 
several of his men, perished at the first discharge. They 
were sustained by the light Infantry and Grenadiers, who 
boldly advanced upon the wood in the face of the invisible 
foe. A heavy fire followed on both sides, the Cherokees, 
each with his eye upon his man, the Carolinians aiming 
at the flash of the enemy's guns. The pass was disputed 
by the savages with a degree oi conduct and jourage^ 



42 L 1 F E F M A R I N . 

which left the issae doubtful. The necessity was apparent 
for extraordinary effort. The Royal Scots, who were in 
the rear, were now pushed forward to take possession of a 
rising ground on the right, while the Highlanders were 
marched forward to the immediate support of the Infantry 
and Grenadiers. This movement had the effect of bring- 
ing the enemy into close action. The bayonet stirred and 
laid bare the thicket The woods resounded with the 
shouts and yells of the Cherokees, but they no longer fell 
with terror upon the ear of the whites. They had grown 
familiar. The savages yielded slowly as the bayonet ad- 
vanced. Suffering severely as they fled, they yet display- 
ed the native obstinacy of their race, — turning upon the 
pursuer when they could, availing themselves of tree or 
thicket to retard, by shot or stroke, the assailants ; and, 
even in flight, only so far keeping ahead of the bayonet as 
to avoid its stroke. As he beheld this, Montgomery 
changed the head of his army, and advanced upon the 
town of Etchoee, which it had been their purpose to de 
fend, and from which they now strove to divert him. This 
movement alarmed them for their wives and children 
Their retreat became a flight ; and, satisfied with having 
inflicted upon them this measure of punishment, the 
British General prepared to march back to Fort Prince 
George. 

This decision was the result of his exigencies. The 
situation of his army was neither a safe nor an agreeable 
one. The victory was with the Carolinians, yet the affair 
was very far from decisive in its consequences. The 
enemy had only retired from one advantageous position to 
another. They waited his approach only to renew a con- 
flict in which even victory might be without its fruits. To 
gain a battle, unless a final one, was, with a force so small 
as his, a matter of very doubtful advantage. He was 



L I F E F M A R I N . 43 

already encumbered with his wounded, to fuiiish horses 
for whom, he was compelled to discard, and tc destroy, a 
large quantity of the provisions necessary for the arm}-. 
What remained was measured with a nice reference to 
their absolute wants on the return march to Prince George. 
Under these suggestions jf prudence the retreat was begun. 
It was conducted with admirable regularity. The Che- 
rokees, meanwhile, hurg upon the retiring foosteps of the 
invaders, annoying them to the utmost of their power. 
Sixty miles of mountainous country were traversed in this 
manner, and under various hardships, with a skill and 
intrepidity which confer the highest credit upon the Eng- 
lish captain. A large train of wounded was brought to 
the frontier without the loss of a man. 

We have admitted an uncertainty as to the presence ot 
Marion in this campaign. It would be impertinent and 
idle, therefore, to speculate upon his performances, or the 
share which he might have taken in its events. Tradition 
simply assures us that he distinguished himself. That, if 
present, he did his duty, we have no question ; and, endur- 
ing with becoming resolution the worst severities of the 
march, proved himself possessed o' the first great requisite 
for soldiership in lodiaa warfare. 



CHAPTER IV 

Cheroiee war contitued. — Marion leads the Forlorn Hope at the 
Battle of Etchoee. 

The Cherokees were very far from being subdued or 
satisfied. The snake had been "scotched not killed," and 
stung, rather than humbled by the chastisement they re- 
ceived, they prepared to assume the offensive with sudden 
vigor. Concentrating a numerous force upon the distant 
garrison of Fort Loudon, on the Tennessee river, they suc- 
ceeded in reducing it by famine. Here they took bloody 
revenofe for the massacre of their chiefs at Prince George 
The garrison was butchered, after a formal surrender upon 
terms which guarantied them protection. This wholesale 
and vindictive barbarity, while it betrayed the spirit which 
filled the savages, had the still farther effect of encouraging 
them in a warfare which had so far gratified very equally 
their appetites for blood and booty. In addition to this 
natural effect, the result of their own wild passions, there 
were other influences, from without, at work among them. 
Certain French emissaries had crept into their towns and 
were busily engaged, with bribes and arguments, in stimu- 
lating them to continued warfare. This, in all probability, 
was the secret influence, which, over all, kept them from 
listening, as well to their own fears, as to the urgent sug- 
gestions of the British authorities, for peace. Hitherto, the 
Cherokees had given no ear to the temptations of the 



L I F E O F M A R I O N . 45 

French, whom they considered a frivolous people, and 
whose professions of faith they were very hkely to have 
regarded with distrust. But the labors of their emissaries 
at this juncture, harmonizing with the temper of the nation, 
were necessarily more than usually successful. One of 
these emissaries, Louis Latinac, an officer of considerable 
talent, proved an able instigator to mischief He per- 
suaded them, against the better reason of their older chiefs, 
to the rejection of every overture for peace. Their suc- 
cesses at Fort Loudon were, perhaps, sufficient arguments 
for the continuance of war, but there were others not less 
potent. The king of France was now to be their ally in 
place of him of Great Britain. The one " great father" 
was no less able than the other to minister to their 
appetites and necessities. His arms and ammunition 
replaced those which had been withdrawn by the latter ; 
and we may suppose that the liberality of the new allies 
was such as to admit of very favorable comparison and 
contrast with that which they had experienced at the 
hands of the British. Their very excesses in the war 
were favorable to its continuance : as they might very 
well doubt the binding force of treaties between parties, 
the bad faith of whom had been written so terribly in 
blood. At a great meeting of the nation, at which Louis . 
Latinac was present, he, with something of their own 
manner, seizing suddenly upon a hatchet, struck it vio- 
lently into a block of wood, exclaiming, as he did sO; 
' Who is the warrior that will take this up for the king 
jf France .'" Salouee, a young chief of Estatoee, instantly 
ore the weapon from the tree. He declared himself for 
nstant and continued war. " The spirits of our slain 
jrothers," was his cry, " call upon us to avenge theii 
massacre. He is a woman that dares not follow me ''' 
Such being the spirit of the sa^^ages, the CaroliniariS 



46 LIFEOFMARION. 

had no alternative but to resume their arms. Col, INIont- 
gomery having gone to England, the command devolved 
upon Colonel Grant, and the Highlanders were once more 
ordered to the relief of the province. The Carolinians 
were now somewhat better prepared to co-operate with 
their allies. A native regiment of twelve hundred men 
was raised, and the command given to Col. Middleton 
a brave and accomplished provincial officer. 

To this regiment Marion was attached, under the imme- 
diate command of Moultrie. ]\lany of his associates in 
this Cherokee war became subsequently, like himself, dis- 
tino-uished in the war with Great Britain. Among; these 
may be mentioned the names of Moultrie,* Henry Lau- 
rens, Andrew Pickens and Isaac Huger. These were all 
officers, even in that early day, and Marion himself held a 
lieutenancy — some proof that, however little we may 
know of the circumstances by which he secured the confi- 
dence of his neighbors, he was already in full possession 
of it. How much of the future acts and successes ol 
these brave men was due to the exercises and events of 
this Cherokee war, may reasonably be conjectured by every 
reader who knows the value of a stern apprenticeship to a 
hazardous profession. Its successive campaigns against no 
inferior enemy, and under circumstances of peril and pri- 

* Moultrie in his Memoirs, vol. 2, p. 223, would seem to set- 
tle the question in the negative, whether Marion was or was not 
in the preceding campaign. He says, "^ General Marion and 
aiyseK entered the field of Mars together, in an expedition against 
the Cherokee Indians, under the command of Colonel James 
Grant, in 1761, when I had the honoi to command a light infan- 
try company in a provincial regiment; he was my first lieuten- 
ant. He was an active, brave and hardy soldier, and an excel- 
lent pauisan officer." This is very far however from being 
conclusive, inasmuch a^ we have seen that Marion entered the. 
field of Mars two years before, under the command of his 'nu- 
tlier, in tiie first campaign of Lyttleton against the Indians. This 
latter fact is settled beyond all question. 



1-IFEOJMABiON. 47 

vaiion of no common order, were such as must have 
aflbrde J them frequent opportunity of making themselves 
familiar equally with the exigencies and responsibiUties of 
command. 

To the united forces of Colonels Grant and Middleton, 
were added a certain number of Chickasaw and Catawba 
Indians ; making a total of twenty-six hundred men 
This army reached Fort Prince George on the 29th of 
May, 1761 On the 7th of June following, it took up the 
line of march for the enemy's country. The advance was 
conducted with caution, but without molestation, until it 
reached the place where Montgomery, in the previous 
campaign, had encountered the Indians, near the town of 
Etchoee. Here the Cherokees were again prepared to 
make a stand, and to dispute a pass which, above all 
others, seemed to be admirably designed by nature for the 
purposes of defence. Their position was not exactly 
what it had been on the previous occasion, but its charac- 
teristic advantages were the same. Hitherto, the Indians 
had shown considerable judgment in the selection of their 
battle-grounds, and in the general employment of their 
strength. This judgment they probably owed in great 
part to their present adversaries. Quick in their instinct, 
and surprisingly observant, they had soon learned the use 
of European weapons. The various lessons of European 
tactics, the modes of attack and defence, were, in their 
united struggles with the French, equally open to their 
study and acquisition. They had not suffered tnese les« 
sons to escape them. But they probably owed something 
of theii skill in the present war to the active counsels of 
the French emissaries. The fact is not recorded by the 
historian, but there is no reason to suppose that the officer? 
who counselled the war, would withhold themselves when 
the opportunity offered, from giving directions in the fi"!(i 



48 L I F E O F M A R I N . 

The French had frequently distinguished themselv^es, by 
leading on forces entirely composed of Indians. The prac- 
tice was common. Even at the defeat of Braddock, the 
French troops bore but a small proportion to their Indian 
allies. There is no reason to suppose that Louis Latinac 
was not present at one or both of the bloody fields of 
Etchoee. 

The provincial army marched in good order upon the 
suspected position. The Indian auxiliaries, vt^ho were in 
the van, first discovered signs of an enemy. The Chero- 
kees were in possession of a hill, strongly posted, and in 
considerable force, upon the right flank of the arniy. 
Finding themselves discovered, they opened their fire upon 
the advanced guard, and followed it up with a gallant 
charge. But the van being vigorously and promptly sup- 
ported, they were driven back, and resumed their position 
upon the hill. Under this hill the line of march lay 
for 0. considerable distance. To attempt, therefore, to 
continue the march before dislodging the enemy in posses- 
sion of it, would be to expose the troops to a protracted 
fire, the more murderous, as it would be delivered by a 
foe in a position of perfect security. The advanced guard 
was ordered upon this duty, and from this body a forlorn - 
hope of thirty men was chosen, to force the perilous en- 
trance to the foe. The command of this devoted corps was 
assigned to Francis Marion, still a lieutenant under the 
command of Moultrie, in the provincial regiment of Mid- 
dleton. The ascent of the hill was by means of a gloomy 
defile, through which the little band, headed gallantly by 
their leader, advanced with due rapidity ; a considerable 
body of the army moving forward at the same time in sup- 
port of the advance. Scarcely had the detachment pene- 
trated the defile, when the war-whoop gave the signal. 
The savages, still concealed, poured in a deadly fire, by 



w 




LIFEOFMARION 49 

which no less than twenty-one of this fated band were 
prostrated.* Fortunately their leader was not among 
them. He seems, like Washington, to have been the spe- 
cial care of Providence The residue were only saved 
from destruction by the proximity of the advance, whose 
hurried approach, while j^ivmg them safety, brought on the 
main action. The battle was fought with great carnage on 
both sides. The Cherokees were not only well posted, 
but they were in great numbers. Repeatedly dislodged I y 
the bayonet, they as repeatedly returned to the attack ; 
and, driven from one quarter/ rallied upon another, wdth a 
tenacious and unshaken valor becoming in men who v/ere 
defending the passes to the bosom of their country ' From 
eight in the morning until no(m, the fight was continued, 
not only without intermission^ but seemingly without any 
decisive results on either sidt^ But, at length, the patient 
resolution of the whites prevailed ; and, about two o'clock 
in the day, the field was yielded by tlie reluctant Cherokees 
to their superior foes. This victory determined the fate 
of Etchoee, a town of consideiable size, which was re- 
duced to ashes 

The result of this fierce engagement seems to have 
broken the spirit of the nation. They had chosen the 
position of greatest strength to make their stand, and 
brought to the struggle their best spirits^ and bravest war- 
riors. Lithe issue, they had shown, by their dogged and 
determined valor, the great importance which it carried in 
their eyes. The day once decided against them, they 
appeared to be equally without heart and hope ; they no 
longer appeared in arms — no longer offered defence — -and 
the army of the Carolinians marched through the heart of 
the nation, searching its secret settlements, and everywhere 

• Weems, pp. 21. Horry's MS. Memoir, pp. 58, 
4 



60 L I F E C «• M A S I N . 

inflicting the severest penalties of war. The rest cf tl/e 
campaign was an easy progress, and terrible was the retri- 
bution which it brought with it. No less than fourteen 
of their towns, in the middle settlements, shared the fate 
cf Etchoee. Their granaries were yielded to the flames, 
their cornfields ravaged, while the miserable fugitives, 
flying from the unsparing sword, took refuge, with their 
almost starving families, among the barren mountains, which 
could yield them little but security. A chastisement so 
extreme was supposed to be necessary, in order to subdue 
for ever that lively disposition for war, upon the smallest 
provocation, which, of late years, the Cherokees had mani- 
fested but too frequently ; but it may be doubted whether 
the means which were employed for administering this 
admonitory lesson, were of the most legitimate character 
We must always continue to doubt that humanity required 
the destruction of towns and hamlets, whose miserable 
walls of clay and roofs of thatch could give shelter to none 
but babes and sucklings — women with their young — those 
who had never offended, and those who could not well 
offend — the innocent victims to an authority which they 
never dared oppose. The reckless destruction of their 
granaries — fields yet growing with grain — necessarily ex- 
posed to the worst privations of famine only those portions 
of the savage population who were least guilty. The 
warrior and .hunter could readily relieve himself from 
the gnawing necessities of hunger. He could wander of? 
to remote tribes, and, armed with rifle or bow, could easily 
secure hip game, sufficient for his own wants, from the 
contiguous forest. But these were resources inaccessible 
to the weak, the old, the timid, and the imbecile. Surely, 
it was a cruel measure of war, and if necessary to the 
safety of the whites, renders still more criminal the wan- 
ton excesses of the latter, by which it Mas originally pro- 



L I F E / M A R I O N . 51 

voked. It is pleasing to be able to show that Marion felt, 
in this matter, as became that rare humanity which was 
one of the most remarkable and lovely traits in his charac- 
ter, — the more remarkable, indeed, as shining out among 
endowments which, in particular, designated him for a 
military life — a life which is supposed to need for its stimu- 
lus so much that is sanguinary, if not brutal, in one's 
nature. It is recorded of him, that the severities prac- 
tised in this campaign filled him, long after, with recollec- 
tions of sorrow. Writing to a friend,* he gives a brief 
description of the calamities of the war, in terms equally 
touching and picturesque. " We arrived," he writes, " at 
the Indian towns in the month of July. As the lands were 
rich, and the season had been favorable, the corn v/as 
bending under the double weight of lusty roasting ears 
and pods of clustering beans. The furrows seemed to 
rejoice under their precious loads — the fields stood thick 
with bread. We encamped the first night in the woods, 
near the fields, where the whole army feasted on the 
young corn, which, with fat \^enison, made a m.ost deli- 
cious treat. 

" The next morning we proceeded, Dy order of Colonel 
Grant, to burn down the Indian cabins. Some of our men 
seemed to enjoy this cruel work, laughing very heartily at 
the curling flames as they mounted, loud-crackling, over 
the tops of the huts. But to me it appeared a shocking 
sight. "Poor creatures!" thought I, "we surely need 
not grudge you such miserable habitations." But when 
we came, according to orders^ to cut down the fields of 
corn, I could scarcely refrain from tears. For who could 
see the stalks that stood so stately, with broad green 
leaves and gaily-tasselled shocks, filled with swe'?t milky 
fluid, and flour, the staff of life — who, I say, vvithoul 

• In a letter quoted by Wecms, 



62 LIFEOF MARION. 

grief, could see these sacred plants sinking under our 
swords, with all their precious load, to wither and rot 
untasted, in their mourning fields ! 

" I saw everywhere around the footsteps of the little In- 
dian children, where they had lately played under the 
shelter of the rustling corn. No doubt they had often look- 
ed up with joy to the swelling shocks, and gladdened when 
they thought of their abundant cakes for the coming winter. 
When we are gone, thought I, they will return, and peep- 
ing through the weeds with tearful eyes, will mark the 
ghastly ruin poured over their homes, and the happy fields 
where they had so often played. " Who did this V they 
will ask their mothers. " The white people, thfe Christians 
did it!" will be the reply. 

' It would be no easy matter," says Hewatt, the earliest 
regular historian of Carolina, " to describe the hardships 
which this little army endured, in the wilderness, from 
heat, thirst, watching, danger, and fatigue. Thirty days did 
Colonel Grant continue in the heart of the Cherokee ter- 
ritories, and upon his return to F'^^t Prince George, the 
feet and legs of many of his army were so m.angled, and 
their strength and spirits so much exhausted, that they 
were unable to march farther." But the chastisement 
which the Indians had received, secured the object for the 
attainment of which it was inflicted. The Cherokees sued 
for peace, and Marion once more retired to the obscurity 
of rural life ; we may well believe with a human sense of 
satisfaction, that the painful duty upon which he had been 
engaged was at length over. Unhappily, the details of 
the war, beyond those which we have given, do not ena- 
ble us to ascertain the extent of his services. We are 
simply told that he behaved well, with skill and spirit. 
More than this perhaps it would be unreasonable to expect 
from any degree of talent, in the subordinate situation 
which he at that time occupied. 



CHAPTER V. 

1775. — Marion is returned to the Provincial Congress from Al. 
John's, Berkeley. — Made captain in the 2d* Regiment,- /ort 
Johnson taken. — Battle of Fort Moultrie. 

Engaged in rural and domestic occupations we iiear no 
more of Marion, except as a citizen and farmer, until the be 
ginning of the year 1775. In the latter capacity he is reput- 
ed to have been successful ; and between the labors and 
sports of the field, the more violent humors of youth 
seem to have been dissipated in exercises v/hich are sel- 
dom followed by reproach. He was very fond of an- 
gling and hunting, and with rod or gun, his leisure was em- 
ployed in a way that would not have displeased the 
gentle Isaak Walton. These constituted his chief pastimes 
for the fourteen years that had elapsed since his Cherokee 
campaigns. His connection with public events had lon<T 
since ceased; but, from all accounts, he still continued, in 
some degree, to fill the eyes of his countrymen. His firm- 
ness and purity of character, his gentle temper, known 
bravery, and the conduct which he had already manifested 
in war, had secured to him the confidence and the affec-. 
tions of his neighbors. He had attained that place in their 
esteem which naturally brought him conspicuously before 
tlieir eyes in the moment of e:nergcncy. Emergencies 
were now approaching of a kind well calculated to bring 



64 I. r F E F M A R I ]Y . 

into the field all the energies, with all the patriotism of 
the country. The great struggle was at hand between the 
colonies and that mighty empire by which they had been 
established. Of the part taken by South Carolina in this 
conilict, history has already sufficiently informed us. Her 
movements were made without reserve — her resolves taken 
promptly, and steadily maintained with her best blood and 
treasure. Her battles were among the boldest and blood 
iest, as they were among the fi.rst and last of the revolu- 
tion. Of the political steps by which she committed her- 
self to that event, it does not need that we should enter 
into details. These belong rather to general history than 
to biography. It will be enough to exhibit those particu- 
lars onl}^, of her progress, in which the subject of our me- 
moir was more immediately interested. That he took an 
early and deep concern in the contest may be inferred from 
his character. That he should not have become an active 
politician may also be inferred from his known modesty, 
and the general reserve of his deportment in society. He 
was no orator, and no doubt felt quite as awkward in de- 
hate as Washington. But his opinions were well known • 
he was not the person about whose ways of thinkfng, in 
trying times, his neighbors could entertain either doubt 
or discussion* Pie formed his opinions as promptly as he 
fought for them, and his character was above concealment. 
We find him accordingly, in 1775, returned to the Provin- 
ci-al Congress of South. Carolina, as a member from St. 
John, Berkeley.* This Congress distinguished itself by 
committing the people of South Carolina to the final des- 
tinies of the Revolution. It adopted the American Bill of 

* "_ For St. John's, Berkeley County — James Ravenel, Daniel 
Ravenel, Jub Marion, John Frierson, Esqrs., Mr. Gabriel Gignil- 
liat, Mr. Francis Marion." Journals of the Provincial Congress 
of South Carolina. 



LIFEOFMARIOK 55 

Rights, as declared by the Continental Congress — adopted 
the famous '' act of association," recommended by the 
same federative body to all the colonies, by which the sub- 
scribers bound themselves to refuse and to prevent the 
importation of goods, wares and merchandize, from the 
mother country ; established committees of safety through- 
oat the province, and, in short, in possession of almost die- 
tatorial powers, did not hesitate to use them for the public 
welfare. It was at particular pains to infuse a martial 
spirit among the people ; and, influenced by this spirit, and 
under the immediate suggestion, and by direct participation, 
of this assembly, certain overt acts of treason were committed. 
The public armory in Charleston was broken open by night, 
and eight hundred stand of arms, two hundred cutlasses, be- 
sides cartouches, flints, matches and other necessary materi- 
als of war, were withdrawn without discovery. One party 
possessed itself of the public powder at Hobcau ; another 
emptied Cochran's Magazine, while a third, as above stated, 
relieved the state armory of its contents. In all these pro- 
ceedings, the members of the Provincial Congress displayed 
the energies of men, who, having once set their hands to the 
plough, have resolved not to be turned away from it. Un- 
der that bolder policy which, by provoking the danger, 
compels the timid to a part in it from which they might 
otherwise shrink in terror, they were personally engaged 
in these acts of treason. We may reasonably conclude 
that, however silent as a member, Francis Marion was not 
the person to forbear taking active part in the more hazard- 
ous duties which distinguished the doings of the body to 
v,hich be belonged. There was a generous impulse in his 
character, which hurried him into performance, whenever 
work was to be done, or daring became necessary. He 
could approach such duties with a degree of cheerfulness* 
which to the ordinary mind, thoughtful only of the conse- 



66 L I F E F M A R I K . 

queiices and responsibilities of action, seemtvl to partaka 
of levity and recklessness. There was, indeed, an element 
t»f playfulness, we had almost said fun, in his character ; 
a quiet and unobtrusive humor, which enlivened his utter- 
ance, and softened, with a gentle aspect, a countenance 
that might otherwise have been esteemed severe. We 
have no doubt that the native courage, and the elastic spi- 
rit of his temperament made him an active participant in 
all those deeds of decision, which the deliberations of the 
body to which he belonged, deemed it necessary should be 
done. We can very well imagine him conspicuous among 
those masked and midnight bands, commissioned to do 
mischief for the public good, by which the arsenals were 
stripped of their contents, and the tea-chests tumbled into 
Cooper river.* 

The Provincial Congress having thus committed the 
country, without doubt, to the destinies of war, and having, 
to some extent, provided against its consequences, adjourn- 
ed to re-assemble on the 20th June, 1775. But this inter- 
val was shortened by the occurrence of events equally 
unexpected and important. The battle of Lexington, in 
the meantime, had taken place, and any hopes which 
might have been entertained, of a final reconciliation be- 
tween the two countries, without a trial of strength, was 
fairly dismissed from every reflecting, if not every loyal 
mind. Instead of the 20th of June, the Provincial Con- 
gress was brought together on the first day of that month. f 



* It is not so generj^lly known that South Carolina did her 
part, as well as Massach?'jsc*ts, in destroying teas and stamped 
papei'. 

t A letter from /5fl^^ Marioji-, on'^ of the brothers of onr subject, 
who dwelt at Little River, the Northe-n boundary of the province, 
is worthy cf quotation, as serving to show that h« was animated 
with the same public spirit that possessed his more distinguished 
kinsman. It was written to accompany the express, whi'C-U brougbi 



L I F E O F M A R I N . 57 

The members of this body, assemblirg according to 
summons, proceeded, with the utmost vigor, to the con- 
sideration of the subjects before them. They ap- 
proached their tasks with equal speed and solemnity. 
Their labors v/ere commenced with Divine Service, and 
an ac^ of association vras then passed, though not without 
considerable opposition. This act ran as foUow^s : — 

*' The actual commencement "f hostilities against this 
Continent by the British troops, in the bloody scene of the 
19 th of April last, near Boston — the increase of arbitrary 
imposition from a wicked and despotic ministry — and the 
dread of insurrections in the Colonies — are causes sufficient 
to drive an oppressed people to the use of arms. We, 
therefore, the subscribers, inhabitants of South Carolina, 
holding ourselves bound by that most sacred of all obliga- 
tions, the duty of good citizens to an injured country, and 
thoroughly convinced, that, under our present distressed 
circumstances, we shall be justified before God and man, 
in resisting force by force — do unite ourselves, under every 
tie of religion and honor, and associate as a band in her 
defeijce, against every foe — hereby solemnly engaging, 

the news of the battle of Lexington. A letter to him, from R. 
Howe, of N, C, forwarding the express, 'remarking, " I know you 
stand in no need of being prompted v/hen your country requires 
your service" — would seem to show that he too had shared in the 
rep-utation of his brother. The following is the letter of Isaac 
Marion, addressed to the Committee ol Safety of Little River. 

Boundary, May 9, 1775, LitJe River. 
Gentlemen of the Committee ; — I have just now received an ex- 
press, from the Committee of the Northern Provinces, desiring I 
would forward the enclosed packet to the Southern Committees, 
As yours is the nearest, I request /or the good of your country, and 
the welfare of our lives, liberties, and fortunes, you'll not lose a _ 
moment's time, but dispatch the same to the Committee of George. 
town, to be forwarded to Charleston. In meantime, am, gentlemen. 
Your obliged humble servant, &c. 

Isaac Marion. 
Trt Danness, Hawkins and others 



5S' LIFEOI'MARION. 

tkat, whenever our Continental and Provincial CounciU 
shall deem it necessary, we will go forth, and be ready to 
sacrifice our lives and fortunes to secure her freedom and 
safety. This obligation to continue in force, until a recon- 
ciliation shall take place between Great Britain and Ame- 
rica, upon Constitutional principles — an event whi -h we 
most ardently desire. And, we will hold all those per- 
sons inimical to the liberty of the Colonies, who shall refuse 
to subscribe to this association."* 

This open declaration was followed up with measures 
equally fearless and decisive. On the fourth day of the 
session, the Provincial Congress resolved to raise fifteen 
hundred infantry, rank and fde, in two regiments ; and four 
hundred and fifty horse, constituting another regiment. The 
troops so to be raised, were to be subjected to military dis- 
cipline, and to the articles of war, in hke manner with the 
British. On the fourteenth day of their session, a million 
of money was voted, and a council of safety was elected 
vested with the executive power of the colony. Among 
other acts of this body, non-subscribers to the association 
were made amenable to the General Committee, and pun- 
ishable according to sound policy. Absentees having es- 
tates, were, with certain exceptions, required to return 5 
and it was further resolved that no persons ought to with- 
draw from the service of the Colony, without giving good 
and sufficient reasons to the Provincial Congress. Mili- 
tary duty was performed day and night, as in a state of ac- 
tual warfare, by the militia companies in rotation ; and 
thus, having placed the province in a state of preparation, 
with arms in the hands of the people, and given to the new- 
l}' arrived Governor, Lord William Campbell, a reception 
which boded small repose to his authority, the Provincial 
Congress adjourned itself on the 22d day of June, leaving 
♦ Drayton's Memoir^ Vol. i., p.. 28 



IIFEOFMARION. 5b 

their aitthority, in g^reat part, to the Council of Safety and 
General Committee. 

It has been seen that the only share which Marion had 
in the proceedings of this body, was that of an assenting 
member. He was not endowed with those talents which 
could have rendered him conspicuous in a deliberative as- 
sembly. But he is not the less entitled to his share in the 
merit of those proceedings, which so admirably declared 
a^ illustrated the patriotism and the spirit of the province ; 
and one of the last, decisive measures of the Provincial Con- 
gress, happily enabled him to appear in the character upon 
which he was more likely to confer distinction, than that of 
the orator. He was elected a captain in the Second Regi- 
ment, of which William Moultrie, formerly his captain in 
the Cherokee campaign, was made Colonel. The du- 
ties of this appointment were immediately begun, with a 
promptness at once due to the necessities of the case, and 
his own character. As a proof of the zeal by which the 
newly made officers were distinguished, we find them seek- 
ing recruits so early as the 20th of June, and while the body 
to which they belonged were still engaged in the most 
laborious duties of the session.* 

Marion's commission was made out on the 21st June. 
Weems, in his life of our author, gives us some pictures, 
equally lively and ludicrous, of his progress in the business 
of recruiting, upon which, in connection with his friend. 
Captain Horry, he at once began. This gentleman received 
his appointment as captain at the same time, and in the 
same regiment, with Marion. The Provincial Congress had 
voted a miliion of money, by which to carry out their mea- 
^r.rfis, but this was yet to be procured, and, as it appears, 
rather more upon the credit of individuals than that of the 

♦ Draj'on's Memoirs, vol. i., p. 265. Note 



so LIFEOF MARION. 

colony. But money, in times of danger, seems to have ari 
instinct of its own, by v/hich it hides itself readily from 
sight and touch. It was no easy matter for our captains to 
obtain the requisite sums. But faith and zeal did more for 
them, and for the cause, than gold and silver ; and with 
very inadequate supplies, but in fresh and showy uniforms, 
our young officers set forth on the recruiting service. 
Their route lay in the several neighborhoods of Georgetown, 
Black River, and the Great Pedee. In these parts both ol 
them were known. Here, indeed, Marion was already a 
favorite. Accordingly, they succeeded beyond their ex- 
pectations, and v/ere soon enabled to complete the full 
number for their two companies, of fifty men each. 
Another circumstance, apart from their personal popularity, 
probably facilitated their objects. Some of the settlements 
into which they penetrated were originally founded by the 
Irish. The bitter herita2:e of hate to the Eno-lish, which 
they brought with them to America, was transmitted with 
undiminished fervor to their descendants. It was easy to 
show that the power which had trampled upon the affec- 
tions of their fathers, and tyrannized over their rights in 
the old world, was aiming at the same objects in the case 
of their children in the new. At one remove only from the 
exiled and suffering generation, the sons had as lively a 
recollection of the tyrannies of Britain as if the experience 
had been immediately their own. To this cause our re- 
cruiting officers owed some of their success in the present 
expedition. Some of the bravest fellows of the second 
regiment were picked up on this occasion. It was the 
spirit which they brought, and to which the genius of Ma- 
rion gave lively exercise, that imparted a peculiar vitality 
at all times to his little brigade. Among these gallant 
young men there were two in particular, of whom tradition 
izi Carolina will long retain a grateful recollection ; tbfSP 



LIFEOF MARION. Gi 

were Jasper ^wd Macdonald. Of these two, both :i whom 
sealed their patriotism with their blood, we shall yet have 
something further to deliver. 

While the friends of liberty were thus active, the ad 
herents of the crown, in tne colon}--, were not less so 
These, in many parts of the country, were equally numer- 
ous and influential. They possessed, indeed, certain advan- 
tages in the discussion, which, in some degree, served to 
counterbalance the impelling and stimulating influences 
which always belong to a mouvement party. They carried 
with them the prestige of authority, of the venerable power 
which time and custom seemed to hallow ; they appealed 
to the loyalty of the subject ; they dwelt upon the dangers 
which came with innovation ; they denounced the ambition 
of the patriot leaders ; they reminded the people of the 
power of Great Britain — a power to save or to destroy — 
which had so frequently and so successfully been exerted 
in their behalf in their numerous and bloody conflicts with 
the Indians, and which might be brought, with such fearful 
emphasis, upon their own heads. They reminded the people 
that the Indians were not exterminated, that they still hung 
in numerous hordes about the frontiers, and that it needed 
but a single word from the Crown, to bring them, once more, 
,with tomahawk and scalping-knife, upon their defenceless 
homes. Already, indeed, had the emissaries of Great 
Britain taken measures to this end. The savage was already 
shaking oflf his apathy, scenting the carnage from afar, and 
making ready for the onset. The assurance, that such was 
the case,was doins: the work of numerous aro;uments amonr 
the timid and the exposed. Such were the suggestions, 
appealing equally to their fears and gratitude, which the 
leading loyalists addressed to the people. They were sup- 
ported by other suggestions, scarcely less potent, which 
naturally flowed from their own thcrjghts. Why should 



<52 L I F E F M A R 1 W . 

they dare the conflict with Great Britain ? There was no 
such reason for it as in the case of the northern colonies. 
They had known her chiefly by benefactions ; they did not 
conflict with her in shipping or in manufactures ; and the 
arguments for discontent and resistance, as urged by the 
patriot leaders, did not reach them with sufficient force. 
What was the tax on tea, of which they drank little, and 
the duty on stamps, when they had but little need for legal 
papers ? And why should not taxes follow protection, which 
Great Britain had not often withheld in the need of a fa- 
vorite colony, as South Carolina had unquestionably been r 
Let us do justice to this people. The loyalists — or, as 
they were more commonly called, and as we shall hereafter 
be compelled to call them, the Tories — w^ere, probably, in 
the majority of cases, governed by principle, by a firm and 
settled conviction, after deliberate examination of the case. 
That they might have thought otherwise, nay, would gra- 
dually have adopted the opinions of the patriots, is not 
improbable, had more time been allowed them, and had 
the course of the latter been more indulgent and consi- 
derate. Unfortunately, this was not the case ; and the 
desire to coerce where they could not easily convince, had 
the effect of making a determined and deadly, out of a 
doubtful foe. This was terribly proved by the after his- 
tory. To this cause we may ascribe, in some degree, the 
terrors of that sanguinary strife, in which, to use the lan- 
guage of a distinguished officer, they " pursued each other 
i'ather like Avild beasts than men."* We shall see some- 
thing of this history as we proceed in ours. 

There was yet another circumstance which tended, in 
Rome degree, to give courage to the Tories. It was the 
somewhat temporizing policy of the patriots. There was 

♦ Letter of General Greene. See Johnson's Greene 



HFEOFMARIOP^. 6^ 

gtill a feeling oi doubt, a hesitancy, on the part of the lat- 
ter, as the prospects grew stronger of a final breach with 
Great Britain. There were many who still clung to the 
hope that the differences of the two nations might yet be 
reconciled ; and though the means of such reconciliation 
did not make themselvesobvious, they yet fondly cherished 
the conviction that something might turn up, at .the last 
moment, to prevent the absolute necessity of bloodshed. 
This portion of the patriots necessarily influenced the rest; 
those who, looking beyond the moment, saw the true issue, 
and properly regarded the declared objects of difference as 
pretexts which must suffice when the better reasons might 
not be expressed. They dared not openly hroach the idea 
of national independence, which, there is very little question 
that the noblest of the American patriots everywhere, 
though secretly, entertained from the beginning. Tho 
people were not prepared for such a revelation — such a 
condition ; and appearances were still to be maintained. 
Their proceedings, accordingly, still wore, however loosely, 
a pacific aspect. Though actively preparing for war, the 
professions of the patriots declared their measures to be 
precautionary only — a refuge, an alternative, in the event 
of greater oppression. They still spoke the language of 
iOyalty, still dealt in vague assurances of devotion to the 
crown. But such professions deceived nobody, and least 
of all the loyalists. They derived courage from the reluc- 
tance of the patriots to embark in a struggle, for the fruits 
of which, if successful, they evidently longed. They were 
not less active — nay, in the interior, they were even more 
active — than their opponents ; had already taken arms, 
and gained advantages, which nothing but decisive 
movements on the ftart of the people along the seaboard 
could possibly induce them to forego. This necessity was 
pparent for other reasons. In consequence of the tern- 



G4 LIFEOF MARION. 

porizing policy already mentioned, the crown was still ic 
possession of most of the shows of power in and about 
Charleston. The royal governor was still in tlie city, and 
in some degree exerting his authority. Fort Johnson, on 
James' Island, was suffered to remain in the hands of the 
king's troops for more than three months after the Provin- 
cial Congress had ordered a levy of troops, and had re- 
solved on taking up arms. Two British armed vessels, the 
Tamar and Cherokee, lay in Rebellion Roads, opposite 
Sullivan's Island. This force was quite sufficient, under 
existing circumstances, to have destroyed the town. But 
the royal leaders were not prepared for this issue ; they 
shared the reluctance of the patriots to begin a conflict, 
the issues of which were so extreme. Their policy, like 
that of the patriots — influencing it, and possibly influenced 
by it — was equally halting and indecisive. It was sufli- 
ciently satisfactory if, by the presence of such a force, the 
citizens should be overawed and kept from action. 

This condition of things could not continue. The very 
nature of the movement was adverse to indecision. It need- 
ed but a first step — a first stroke — and this was to be ta*ken 
by the patriots. They brooked impatiently the humiliat- 
ing position in which the city stood, controlled by an infe- 
rior enemy ; and it was resolved that Fort Johnson should 
be subdued. It was on this occasion that Marion first drew 
his sword against the British. He was one of those Cap- 
tains who, with their companies, were despatched on this 
expedition. The command was given to Col. Moultrie. A 
strong resistance was expected, as, but a short time before, 
the garrison had been reinforced from the armed vessels 
At midnight on the fourteenth of September, 1775, the de 
tachment crossed to James Island. The disembarkatiori 
was effected with dela^ and difliculty, occasioned by the 
inadequate size and number of the boats. The foriorn hope 



LIFEOFMAHION 63 

consisting of a detachment fiom the grenadiers of Cai^t 
Pinckney, joined by the Cadets, and led by Lieut, Mouatt, 
were to sc^te the walls of the fort on its south bastion ; 
Col. Moultrie with the rest of Pinckney's Grenadiers, and 
Marion's Light Infantry, were to enter or force the gates 
over the ravelin ; while Capt. Elliott, with his grenadiers, 
penetrated the lower battery over the left flank. It was 
broad daylight before the landing was effected ; and on 
making the assault they were surprised by an easy victory. 
The fort was abandoned. The enemy had probably been 
apprised of the attack. A detachment from the ships had 
landed some hours before — had dismantled the fort, dis- 
mounted the cannon, and withdrawn the garrison ; retreat- 
mg in safety to the ships. A gunner and three men only, 
fell into the hands of the provincials. The very day that 
this event occurred. Lord William Campbell, the Governor, 
fled to the Tamar sloop of war. His flight was no doubt 
hastened by a proceeding so decisive. That evening he 
dispatched his secretary to Fort Johnson, which he was not 
permitted to enter. He was met at the water-side by Capt. 
Pinckney, of whom he demanded, in the name of the Gov 
ernor, by what authority he had taken and held possession 
of the fortress. The answer to this demand brought up the 
vessels of war, which, on the seventeenth of September, 
presented themselves within point blank shot of the fort. 
Up to this time, but three of the dismantled cannon had 
been remounted and put in order for action. With these, 
the provincials prepared for battle, relying, however, less 
upon their cannon than upon their ability to oppose the 
landing of any body of men. But the demonstration of the 
squadron was without fruits. They hauled off without a 
shot, and resumed their-former less offensive position. 

Here, however, the popular leaders were not disposed 
to suffer them to remain. Still they hesitated at coming 
5 



66 LI F E O F M A RIO N. 

to blows. They adopted a middle course, which, in such 
cases, is generally the worst. They ordered that the ships 
should not be victualled or supplied with water from the 
city, except from day to day. This produced a threat from 
Captain Thornborough that, unless supplied as before, he 
should prevent the irgress, or departure, of any vessel 
from the harbor. A menace of this kind, to have been 
properly met, should have been answered from the eighteen 
pounders of Fort Johnson. And, but for the reluctance of 
several highly esteemed patriots, such would have been the 
mode of answer. This temporizing policy continued to 
prevail until the 9th November, 1775, when the Provincial 
Congress resolved, " by every military operation, to oppose 
the passage of any British Armament " Such were the 
orders issued to the officer commanding at Fort Johnson. 
This fort had now been in possession of the popular party 
for nearly two months. It was in some degree prepared 
for use. It was well manned with a portion of those brave 
fellows who afterwards fought the good fight of Fort Sul- 
livan. They would have done as good service here. The 
resolution of the Province once adopted, it was communi- 
cated as well to the commanders of the British vessels, as 
to the officers of the fort. There was still an open pas- 
sage, through Hog-Island channel, by which the British 
vessels might approach the town without incurring any 
dangei from the Fort. This passage it was determined to 
obstruct ; and an armed schooner, called the Defence,- fitted 
up for the occasion, was ordered to cover and protect a 
party which was employed to sink a number of hulks in 
that narrow strait This drew upon them the fire of the 
British. It was returned by the " Defence," but with 
little injury to either side. The garrison at Fort John- 
son endeavored to take part in this little action, but the 
distance was too great for any decisive results from its fire 



L I F E O F M A U I N . 67 

Borne of the shots took effect, but after a few rounds the 
fire was discontinued. Meanwhile, the alarm was beat in 
Charleston, where the troops stood to their arms, and every 
heart throbbed with the expectation of a close and bloody- 
fight. But the time was not yet. Indecisive in itself, this 
brief combat was of great importance in one point of view. 
It was the beginning of the game. The blow for which 
all parties had been waiting, was now fairly struck. The 
sword had been drawn from the scabbard, not again to be 
sheathed, till the struggle was concluded. The local 
Congress proceeded vigorously. Ships were impressed 
for the purpose of war, new troops were enlisted and 
armed, and bills of credit issued. The British vessels, 
meanwhile, became more than ever troublesome, and, 
carrying out the menace of Captain Thornborough, pro- 
ceeded to the seizure of all vessels within their reach, 
whether going from or returning to the port. It became 
necessary to drive them from the roadstead. To effect 
this. Col. Moultrie, v/ith a party of newly raised Provin- 
cials and the Charleston Artillery, took post on Haddrill's 
Point, and, mounting a few pieces of heavy artillery, open- 
ed upon them with a well-directed fire, which drove them 
out to sea. This step was followed by one of preparation. 
The fortifications at Fort Johnson and Haddrill's Point 
were completed — the city was fortified — a new fort was 
raised on James', and another begun on Sullivan's Island 
The militia were diligently trained, the provincial troops 
augmented and disciplined, and all means within the 
power of the Colony were put in requisition to prepare it 
for defence. Among other preparations, a military post 
was established at the town of Dorchester, and strongly 
fortified. This post was nearly at the head of navigation^ 
on Ashley river, about twenty miles from Charleston. 
Thou£;h now utterly desolate, Dorchester was, prior U 



68 LIFEOP MARION 

the Revolution, a town of considerable population and im- 
portance. Its abandonment may be ascribed to the Revo- 
lution, during which it was maintained as a military post by 
the Americans or British. To'this place the public stores 
and records were in great part transferred from Charleston, 
as to a place of safe-keeping. The command was given 
to Marion. While in tliis command we do not find him 
concerned in any events of importance. A couple of his 
original letters, dated from this post, lie before us. They 
refer only to ordinary events, but contain some expressions 
which denote the ardency of his patriotism, and the disap- 
pointments to which it was not unfrequently subjected in 
consequence of the apathy of others. Referring to the 
reluctance shown by many, of whom the utmost patriotism 
was expected, to rally around the flag of the country, he 
exclaims — in a partial perversion of Scripture language, 
but without irreverence, " Tell this not in the streets of 
Charleston," &c. 

From this post Marion was removed to Charleston, very 
probably at his own solicitation. Events w^ere ripening in 
that quarter, of a nature calculated to give becoming em- 
ployment to a mind always active, and desiring nothing 
more than to serve his country. From- Charleston, he was 
despatched to Fort Johnson, where he was busily employed 
in completmg the defences of that place. Weems pre- 
serves an anecdote of him, while in command of this fort, 
in January, 1776, which pleasantly describes the quiet and 
not unamiable sort of humor in which MaHon was fre- 
quently said to indulge. V/hile exceedingly busy in his 
preparations for defence, there came to him a thoughtless 
young officer, who loved the cockpit much better than con- 
sisted entirely with his duties. Christmas and New 
Year's Holidays were famous at that early period, for the 
exercise of this cruel sport -n some parts of Carolina. T© 



L I F E F iM A R r N 69 

obtain leave of absence, however, on any holiday pretence, 
the young officer very well knew was impossible. Ap- 
proaching his Commander with a lie in his mouth, he 
obtained the desired permission, in order to receive the 
last blessing of a dying father ; and, exulting in the un- 
worthy artifice, he hurried to Dorchester, which, on that 
occasion, was to be the scene of his recreation. During 
his absence, Marion arrived at the truth of the story, but 
said nothing. When the youth returned, which he did after 
two weeks' absence, he proceeded to the marquee of his 
Commander, to report himself, and began a tedious apology 
for having stayed, so long. Marion gently interrupted him, 
and, with a smile, in the presence of all the officers, re- 
plied — " Never mind it, Lieutenant — there's no harm done/^' 
— we never missed you." The effect of this sarcasm is 
said to have been admirable ; and to have resulted in the 
complete reform of the offender, who, from being a trifling, 
purposeless, and unscrupulous young man, grew conside- 
rate equally of his duties and his word, and, by a career 
of industry, sobriety and modesty, made ample amends, in 
future days, for all the errors of the past. 

With the formation of new regiments, under the re- 
solves of the Council of Safety, Marion was promoted to 
a Majority. This appointment materially enlarged the 
sphere of his duties. But he was one of those remarkable 
men, who, without pretension, prove themselves equal to 
any trust which may be imposed upon them. Without the 
presence of an actual enemy, he addressed himself to the 
task of preparing his men for the encounter with them. 
He was constantly en parade_, at the drill, closely engaged 
in the work of training, in which business, while very 
gentle, he was very exact ; and, in such a degree had he 
improved the officers and men i)nmediately under his 
charge, that they were very soon regarded as a model for 



70 LIFEOF MARION 

all the rest. He was called the " architect of the Second 
Regiment." Weems, speaking for Col. Horry, says, " In 
deed, I am not afraid to say that Marion was the architect 
of the Second Regiment, and laid the foundation of that 
excellent discipline and confidence in themselves, which 
gained them such reputation whenever they were brought" 
to face their enemies." The value of this training was 
very soon to be subjected to the most thorough of all pos- 
sible tests. He was ordered with his Regiment, under 
command of Col. Wm. Moultrie, to take post at Fort Sul- 
livan, on the island of that name, which stands at the 
entrance of Charleston harbor, and wuthin point blank shot 
of the channel. The difficulties and deficiencies of this post, 
furnished some admirable preparatory lessons for the great 
conflict which was to follow. They imposed the neces- 
sity of diligent industry and hard labor, equally on men 
and soldiers. This was one of the famous schools of Ro- 
man discipline. Fort Sullivan, better known as Fort 
Moultrie — was yet to be built. When the Second Regi- 
ment entered it, it was little more than an outline. Its 
shape was described upon the sand, and the palmetto rafts 
lay around it, waiting to be moulded into form. The 
structure was an inartificial one — a simple wall, behind 
which young beginners might train guns to do mischief to 
a veteran enemy in front. Its form was square, with a 
bastion at each angle, sufficiently large, when finished, to 
cover a thousand men. If was built of logs, laid one upon 
another in parallel rows, at a distance of sixteen feet, 
bound together at frequent intervals with timber, dove- 
tailed and bolted into the logs. The spaces between were 
filled up with sand. The merlons were walled entirely by 
palmetto logs, notched into one another at the angles, well 
bolted together and strengthened with pieces of massy 
timber. Such was the plan of the work ; but, with all the 



LIFEOFMARION. 71 

diligence of the officers, and all the industry cf the men, it 
•jf^mained unfinished at the perilous moment when a power- 
ful British fleet appeared before its walls. The defence 
was confided to Col. Moultrie. The force under his com- 
mand was four hundred and thirty-five men, rank and file, 
comprising four hundred and thirteen of the Second Regi- 
ment of Infantry, and twenty-two of the Fourth Regi- 
ment of Artillery. The whole number of cannon mounted 
on the fortress was thirty-one, of these, nine were French 
twenty-sixes ; six English eighteens ; nine twelve and 
«even nine pounders.* 

General Charles Lee, who had been dispatched by the 
Continental Congress, to take command of the Army of 
the South, would have abandoned the fortress even before 
the appearance of the enemy. He was unwilling, in such 
a position, to abide the conflict. He seems, naturally 
enough for an officer brought up in a British Army, to 
have had an overweening veneration for a British fleet, in 
which it is fortunate for the country that the Carolinians 
did not share. In the unfinished condition of the fort, 
which really presented little more than a front towards the 
sea, his apprehensions were justifiable, and, could the fort 
have been enfiladed, as the British designed, it certainly 
would have been untenable. From the moment of his 
arrival, to the very moment when the action was raging, 
his chief solicitude seems to have been to ensure the de- 
fenders of the fortress a safe retreat. It is to their im- 
mortal honor that this mortifying measure v/as unnecessary 

On the 20th of June, 1776, a day ever memorable in 
the annals of Carolina, the British ships of war, nine in 

* Weems, in his Life of Marion, represents the cannon as 
made up principally of twenty-four and thirty-six pounders: 
but the official accounts are as I have given them. See Dray 
toa's Memoirs, vol. ii , p 290-1, 



7,2 L I F E F M A R I O N 

number,* commanded by Sir Peter Parker, drew up abreaat 
of the fort, let go their anchors, with springs upon their 
cables, and commenced a terrible bombardment. The fa- 
mous battle which followed makes one of the brightest 
pages in our history. Its events, however, are too gene- 
rally known to make it necessary that we should dwell 
upon them here. A few, however, belong properly and 
especially to our pages. The subject of this memoir was 
a conspicuous sharer in its dangers and in its honors. The 
fire cf the enemy was promptly answered, and with such 
efficiency of aim as to be long remembered by the survi- 
<rors. Having but five thousand pounds of powder, with 
which to maintain a conflict that raged for eleven hours, 
with unabated violence, it became necessary, not only that 
the discharge from the fort should be timed, but that every 
shot should bs made to do execution. In order to do this 
the guns were trained by the field-officers in person; hence, 
^jerhaps, the terrible fatality of their fire. The Bristol, 
50 gun ship. Commodore Sir Peter Parker, lost 44 
men killed and thirtyf wounded. Sir Peter himself lost 
an arm. The Experiment, another 50 gun ship, had 57 
killed and 30 wounded. J To these two vessels in par- 
ticular, the attention of the fort was directed. The words, 
passed along the line by officers and men, were — " Look 
to the Commodore — look to the fifty gun ships." § The 
smaller vessels suffered comparatively httle. Their loss 
of men was small. The injury to the vessels themselves 
was greater, and one of them, the Acteon, ran aground, 
and was subsequently burnt. The Carolinians lost but 
twelve men killed and twice that number wounded. One 

* Two ships of fifty g:ur)s ; five of twenty-eight ; 1 of twenty-y] x 
E.id a bomb-vessel. Moultrie, vol. i. p. 174-5. 
t Weems says 100. J British account. 

^Moultrie, Memoirs, Vol. i., Twte, p. 177. 



LIFEOFMARION. 73 

of the former was the brave fellow Macdaniel, of whom 
we have already spoken. When borne from the embra- 
sure where he received his mortal wourd, he cried out to 
those around hJm — " Do not give up — you are fighting for 
liberty and country." The want of powder was severely 
felt. But for this, judging from the effects of the fire 
from the fort, the British Commodore must have struck, 
or his fleet must have been destroyed. So slow, at one 
time, were the discharges — so great the interval of time 
between them, — that the British were of opinion that 
the place was abandoned. But a new supply of pow- 
der was obtained by Marion, who, with a small party, 
leaving the fort, proceeded to the armed schooner 
Defence, lying in Stop Gap Creek, and seized upon 
her powder, by which the fire was kept up until a sup- 
ply of five hundred weight was received from the city.* This 
caused a renewal of the conflict in all its fury The garri- 
son fought with a coolness which would have done honor 
to veterans. The day was very warm, and the men par- 
tially stripped to it. Moultrie says, " When the action 
began (it being a warm day), some of the men took oflHheir 
coats and threw them upon the top of the merlons. I saw 
a shot take one of them and throw it into a small tree be- 
hind the platform. It was noticed by our men, and they 
cried out, " look at the coat !" A little incident that speaks 
volumes for their coolness. Moultrie himself and several 
of his officers smoked their pipes during the action, only 
removing them when it became necessary to issue orders, 
In the hottest fire of the battle the flag of the fort was shot 
away, and fell without the fort. Jasper, with whom we 
have already brought the reader acquainted as one of 
Marion's men, instantly sprang after it upon the beach, 

*MS. Life of Br'g.-Gen. Peter Horry, p. 21. 



74 LIFEOFMARION. 

between the ramparts and the enemy, and binding it to a 
sponge staff, restored it to its place, and succeeded in re- 
gaining his own in safety. We shall hear more hereafter; 
of this gallant fellow.* The coolness — nay the cavalier 
indifference — displayed by the Carolinians throughout the 
combat, is not its least remarkable feature. There is some- 
thing chivalric in such deportment, which speaks for larger 
courage than belongs to ordinary valor. Mere bull-dog 
resolution and endurance is here lifted, by a generous ar- 
dor of soul, into something other than a passive virtue 
The elasticity of spirit which it shows might be trained 
to any performance within the compass of human en- 
dowment. 

Tradition ascribes to the hand and eye of Marion, the 
terrible effect of the last shot which was fired on this bloody 
day. It was aimed at the Commodore's ship, which had 
already received something more than her due share of the 
dttention of the fort. This shot, penetrating the cabin of 

*Gen. Horry (then a captain) thus relates the incident: "I 
commanded an eighteen pounder in theleftwingof the fort. Above 
my gun on the rampart, was a large American flag hung on a 
very high mast, formerly of a ship ; the men of war directing 
their fire thereat, it was, from their shot, so wounded, as to fall, 
with the colors, over the fort. Sergeant Jasper of the Grena- 
diers leapt over the ramparts, and deliberately walked the whole 
length of the fort, until he came to the colors on the extremity 
of the left, when he cut oif the same from the mast, and called tc 
me for a sponge stafl^, an^ with a thick cord tied on the colors 
and stuck the staff on the rampart in the sand. The Sergeant 
fortunately received no hurt, though exposed for a considerable 
time, to the enemy's fire. Governor Rutledge [after the battle], 
as a reward, took his small sword from his side, and in presence 
of many officers, presented it to Sergeant Jasper, telling him to 
wear it in remembrance of the 28th June, and in remembrance 
of him. He also offered Jasper a Lieutenant's commission, bu. 
as he could neither read nor write, he modestly refused to accept 
it, saying, * he was not fit to keep oflicers' company, being only 
bred a Sergeant.' "-^-MS. Life of Brig. -Gen. Peter Hcrry, pp. 
19-2b ' 



LIFEOFMARION. 70 

die vessel, cut down two young officers who were drinking, 
we may suppose, to their fortunate escape from a conflict 
vliich seemed aheaJy over-— then ranging forward, swept 
three sailors from the maindeck into eternity, and finally 
buried itself in the bosom of the sea. This curious par- 
ticular was derived from five sailors who deserted from the 
f '»ct that very night. 



CHAPTER VI. 



(y77-.8_9_From the Battle of Fort Moultrie to that of SaVRii- 
nah — Anecdote of Jasper — His Death. 

The battle of Fort Sullivan was )£ immense importance, 
not merely to Carolina, but to all the confederated colo- 
nies. It saved the former, for thre j years, from the calami- 
ties of invasion ; a respite of the last value to a country 
so greatly divided in public feeling and opinion. The bat- 
tle preceded the declaration of Independence, and,though 
not generally known to have taken place before that deci- 
sive measure was resolved upon, it came seasonably to 
confirm the patriots in those principles which they had so 
solemnly and recently avowed. Its farther effect was to 
dissipate that spell of invincibility, which, in the minds of 
the Americans,seemed to hover about a British armament ; — 
to heighten the courage of the militia, and to convince the 
most sceptical, that it needed only confidence and practice, 
to make the American people as good soldiers as any in the 
world. The Carolina riflemen were not a little elated to 
discover that they could handle twenty-six pounders as 
efficiently as the smaller implements of death, to which 
their hands were better accustomed. To the defenders of 
the fortress, their victory brought imperishable laurels. 
They had shown the couragtj and the skill of veterans, and 



LIFEOFMARION. 77 

their countrymen gloried in the reputation in which they 
ne<',essarily shared. Moultrie received the thanks of Con- 
gress, of the Commander in Chief, and of his fellow citi- 
zens. The fort was thenceforth called by his name, and he 
was made a Brigadier-General. His Major, Marion, neces- 
sarily had his share in these public honors, and was raised 
by Congress to the rank of Lieut. -Colonel in the regular 
service. Two days after the battle, General Lee reviewed 
the garrison at Fort Moultrie, and thanked them " for their 
gallant defence of the fort against a fleet of eight men-of- 
war and a bombj during a cannonade of eleven hours, and a 
bombardment of seven." At the same time, Mrs. Barnard 
Elliott presented an elegant pair of embroidered colors to 
the Second Regiment, with a brief address, in which she ex- 
pressed her conviction that they would " stand by them as 
long as they can wave in the air of liberty." It was in 
fulfilling the pledge made by General Moultrie, on this oc- 
casion, in behalf of the regiment, that the brave Jasper lost 
his life before the walls of Savannah. 

The three j^ears' respite from the horrors of war, which 
this victory secured to Carolina, was not, however, I«^ft un- 
employed by her citizen soldiery. The progress of events 
around them kept their services in constant requisition. 
While a part of them, in the interior, were compelled to 
take arms against the Cherokee Indians, the troops of the 
lower country were required against the Tories in Florida 
and Georgia. Governor Tonyn of the former, an active 
loyalist, proved a formidable annoyance to the patriots of 
the latter province. Florida, under his administration, was 
the secure refuge and certain retreat for all the malcontents 
and outlaws of the neighboring colonies. He gave them 
ample encouragement, put arms into their hands, and even 
issued letters of marque against the property of the colo- 
nists, in anticipation of the act for that puipose, in the Bri- 



78 LIFEOFMARION. 

tish parliament. General Lee marched upon Florida with 
the Virginia and North Carolina troops Pie was subse- 
quently joined by those of South Carolina ; but, owing to 
his own ill-advised and improvident movements, the expe- 
ciition was a total failure.* This result necessarily gave 
encouragement to the Tories ; and, though in too small 
numbers to effect any important objects without the co-op- 
eration of a British force, they were yet sufficiently active to 
invite the presence of one. They formed themselves into 
little squads, and, moving through the country with celeri- 
ty, pursued their marauding habits at httle risk, as they 
sought only unsuspecting neighborhoods, and promptly fled 
to the fastnesses of Florida on the approach of danger. To 
direct and properly avail themselves of these parties, the 
British commanders in America addressed their attention 
to Georgia. The infancy of that colony necessarily led 
them to hope for an easy conquest in attempting it. In 
February, 1777, General Howe, then commanding the 
troops in North Carolina and Georgia, was advised of the 
approach of Colonel Fuser, to the invasion of Georgia. He 
hurried on immediately to prepare Savannah for defence : 
while Marion, with a force of 600 men, in several vessels, 
provided with cannon and ammunition, was dispatched, by 
the inland passage, to his assistance. Marion left Charles- 
ton on the 2Sth of February, but his approach had no far- 
ther effect than to precipitate the flight of the enemy, who, 
meeting with a stout opposition from Colonel Elbert, at 
Ogechee ferry, had already desisted from farther advance. 
The British attempts on Georgia were deferred to a later 
period. But the loyalists were busy, particularly that por- 
tion of them, which took the name of Scopholites, after one 
Scophol, a militia Colonel, whom Moultrie descriles as an 

* Drayton's Memoirs, vol ii., p. 336 



L IF E O F M A R I N . 79 

illiterate, Stupid, noisy blockhead." He proved not the 
less troublesome because of his stupidity, 

Marion was more or less employed during this period, 
in various situations. He was never unemployed. We 
find him at length in command of the fort which he had 
formerly contributed to defend and render famous. He was 
placed in charge of the garrison at Fort Moultrie. The 
value of this fort was estimated rather according to its ce- 
lebrity, than its real usefulness. Subsequent events have 
shown that its capacity was not great in retarding the ap- 
proach of an enemy's fleet to the city. It was the error of 
Sir Peter Parker — obeying an old but exploded military 
maxim, not to leave an armed post of the enemy in his rear — 
to pause before a fortress, the conquest of which could in 
no wise contribute to his success, — and defeat before which, 
must necessarily endanger his final objects. It Avas still the 
impression of the Carolinians that Fort Moultrie must be 
assailed as a preliminary step to the conC[uest of Charles- 
ton, and the post, as one of the highest honor and danger, 
was conferred upon Marion.* It was not known, indeed, at 
what moment the gallantry of the garrison might be put 
to the proof. The British were known to be making large 
marine and military preparations at New York, intended, as 
it was generally understood, for the south. Charleston or 
Savannah, were supposed indifferently to be the places of 
its destination. It might be very well supposed that the 
enemy would seek, at the former place, to recover those 
honors of war of which its gallant defenders had deprived 
him. 

But, any doubt as to the destination of the British fleet 

* When the British under Prevost, were in possession of the 
neighborinE: islands, Moultrie write?;, " we were apprehensive {h« 
enemy would attempt to surprise Fort Moultrie ; we, therefore, 
always kept a strong garrison tliere under General Marion.* 



gQ LIFFOFMARION. 

^s soon removed. In December, 1778, thlrty-seyen sail 
appeared before Savannah, and four thousand British regu- 
lars were disembarked. The American force left m de- 
fence of Savannah was a feeble one, of six or seven hun- 
dred men, under General Howe. General Howe was but 
little of a soldier Instead of withdrawing this force, he 
suffered it to be sacrificed. Badly posted, he was surprised, 
and his troops beaten and disperses with little difficulty. 
Savannah fell at once into the hands of the enemy, and the 
whole colony very shortly after. General Prevost was m 
command of the British. Opposed to him was Major-Gen- 
eral Lincoln, of the Continental army. While Prevos. oc- 
cupied the posts of Savannah, Ebenezer, Abercorn, and 
other places, he was active in pushing select par les for- 
ward to Augusta, and other commanding points m the inte- 
rior The force under Lincoln did not enable h.m to offer 
any active opposition to their progress. His head-quarters 
were at Purysburg, on the Savannah river but a tew miles 
from Abercorn, where Colonel Campbell lay with the . 
inain bodv of the enemy. General Ashe, of the Ameri- 
cans,occupied the post at Brier Creek, and,thus placed, the 
o^osincr commanders seemed disposed for a while to rest 
unon their arms, waiting events and reinforcements. 

It was while the second North CaroUna regmient lay at 
Purysburg, that an adventure occurred, which ^as^P o^"' 
be»n repeated in connection with the name and hfe of i\Ia- 
rion, that we should scarcely be excused from introducing 
it here, as properly in place in this memoir. Weems 
asserts that Marion was present at this time with his regi- 
ment at Purysburg. It is impossible to say ^yhether he 
was or not. It is not improbable that he was with his regi- 
ment, and yet the weight of evidence inclines ns to he 
opinion that he was still at Fort Moultrie. It is not un- 
likely, however, that, when the direction ot the British 



LIFEOFMARION. 81 

fleet was known and it was ascertained that Savannah and 
not Charleston was its object, he immediately joined his 
regiment at Purysburg, leaving Fort Moultrie in the charge 
of some less distinguished officer. At all events the point 
is not of importance to the anecdote we have to relate. 
Personally, Marion had nothing to do with it. It was only 
because the actors in the adventure belon2:ed to his re^i- 
ment, and were of ^'Marion's men," that tradition has insist- 
ed on associating his name with theirs. It is not for us 
to have it otherwise. The reader is already somewhat 
acquainted with the name of William Jasper — perhaps 
Sergeant Jasper is the better Known. This brave man 
possessed remarkable talents for a scout. He could wear 
all disguises with admirable ease and dexterity. Garden 
styles him "a perfect Proteus."* He was equally re- 
markable for his cunning as for his bravery ; and his noble- 
ness and generosity were, quite as much as these, the dis- 
tincruishins; traits of his character. Such was the confi- 
dence in his fidelity and skill that a roving commission was 
granted him, with liberty to pick his associates from the 
BrighJe. Of these he seldom chose more than six. " He 
often went out," sa3rs Moultrie, " and returned with priso- 
ners, before I knew that he was gone. I have known of 
his catching a party that was looking for him. He has 
told me that he could have killed single men several times, 
but he would not ; he would rather let them get off. He 
went into the British lines at Savannah, as a deserter, com- 
plaining, at the same time, of our ill-usage of him ; he was 
gladly received (they having heard of his character) and 
caressed by them. H« stayed eight days, and after inform- 
ing himself well of their strength, situation and intentions, 

* " He was a perfect Proteus, in abilit}'- to alter his appearance; 
perpetually entering the camp of the enemy, without deteciion, 
^nd invariably returning to his own, with soldiers Jie had seduced, 
or prisoners he had captured." 
6 



82 LlFEOyMAR.ON 

lie returned to us aga?h ; but that game he could not play a 
second time. With his little party he was always hover- 
ing about the enemy's camp, and was frequently bringing 
in prisoners."* We have seen what reason was alleged 
by this brave fellow for not accepting the commission ten- 
dered to him by Governor Rutledge, for his gallantry in the 
battle of Fort Moultrie. The natu:e of his services was 
no less a reason why he should reject the commission. 
The fact that he seldom allowed himself a command of 
more than six men declared sufficiently the degree of au- 
thority to which he thought his talents were entitled. 

It was while in the exercise of his roving privileges that 
Jasper prepared to visit the post of the enemy at Ebenezer. 
At this post he had a brother, who held the same rank in 
the British service, that he held in the American. This 
instance was quite too common in the history of the period 
and country, to occasion much surprise, or cause any sus- 
picion of the integrity of either party. We have already 
considered the causes for this melancholy difference of 
individual sentiment in the country, and need not dwell 
upon them here. William Jasper loved his brother and 
wished to see him : it is very certain, at the same time, 
that he did not deny himself the privilege of seeino- all 
around him. The Tory was alarmed at William-s appear- 
ance in the British camp, but the other quieted his fears, 
by representing himself as no longer an American soldier. 
He checked the joy which this declaration excited in his 
brother's mind, by assuring him that, tliough he found little 
encouragement in fighting for his country, " he had not the 
heart to fight against her." Our scout lingered for two' or 
three days in the British camp, and then, by a detour^ re- 
gained that of the Americans ; reporting to his Comman- 
der all that he had seen. He was encouraged to repeat his 
* MoTiltrifc's Mem., vol. ii., p. 24 



LIFEOFMARiON 83 

visit a few weeks after, but this time he took with Lim a 
comrade, orie Sergeant Newton, a fellow quite as brave in 
spirit, and strong in body as himself. Here he was again 
well received by his brother, who entertained the guests 
kindly for several days. Meanwhile, a small party of 
Americans were brought into Ebenezer as captives, over 
whom huno; the danger of "short shrift and sudden cord." 
They were on their way to Savannah for trial. They had 
taken arms with the British, as hundreds more had done, 
when the country was deemed reconquered ; but, on the 
approach of the American army, had rejoined their coun- 
trymen, and w^re now once more at the mercy of the pow- 
er with v/hich they had broken faith. " It will go hard 
with them," said the Tory Jasper to his Whig brother ; 
but the secret comment of the other was, "it shall go hard 
with me first." There was a woman, the wife of one of 
the prisoners, who, with her child, kept them company. 
William Jasper and his friend were touched by the specta- 
cle of their distress ; and they conferred together, as soon 
as they were alone, as to the possibility of rescuing them. 
Their plan was soon adopted. It was a simple one, such 
as naturally suggests itself to a hardy and magnanimous 
character. The prisoners had scarcely left the post for 
Savannah, under a guard of eiglit men, a sergeant and 
corporal, when Jasper and his friend departed also, 
though in a different direction from the guard. Chang- 
ing their course when secure from observation, they 
stretched across the country and followed the footsteps 
of the unhappy captives. But it was only in the pursuit 
that they became truly conscious of the difficulty, nay, 
seeming impossibility, of effecting their object. The guard 
was armed, and ten in number ; they but two and wea- 
ponless. Hopeless, they nevertheless followed on. Two 
miles from Savannah there is a famous spring, the waters 



84 L I F E ^ F M A R 1 N , 

of which are well known to travellers. The co:;ecture 
that the guard might stop there, with the prisoners, for 
refreshment, suggested itself to our companions ; here, op- 
portunities might occur for the rescue, which had nowhere 
before presented themselves. Taking an obscure path with 
which they were familiar, which led them to the spot be- 
fore the enemy could arrive, they placed themselves in 
ambush in the imjiiediate neighborhood of the spring. 
They had not long to wait. Their conjecture proved 
correct. The guard v/as halted on the road opposite the 
sprino-. The corporal with four men conducted the cap- 
tives to the water, while the sergeant, with the remainder 
of his force, having made^ them ground their arms near the 
road, brought up the rear. The prisoners threw themselves 
upon the earth — the woman and her child, near its father. 
Little did any of them dream that deliverance was at hand . 
The child fell asleep in the mother's lap. Two of the 
armed men kept guard, but we may suppose with httle 
caution. What had they to apprehend, within sight of a 
walled town in the possession of their friends ? Two oth- 
ers approached the spring, in order to bring water to the 
prisoners. Resting their muskets against a tree they pro- 
ceeded to fill their canteens. At this moment Jasper gave 
the sio-nal to his comrade. In an instant the muskets were 
in their hands. In another, they had shot down the two 
soldiers upon duty ; then clubbing their weapons, they 
rushed out upon the astonished enemy, and felling "^heir 
first opponents each at a blow, they succeeded in obtaining 
possession of the loaded muskets. This decided the con- 
flict, which was over in a few minutes. The surviving 
guard yielded themselves to mercy before the presented 
weapons. vSucli an achievement could only»be successful 
from its audacity and the operation of circumstances. The 
very proximity of ^avannah increased the chances of sue- 



p 

p 

0^ 




L I F E C F M A R I N . 85 

cess. But for this the guard would have used better pre- 
cautions. None were takeix The prompt valor, the 
bold decision, the cool calculation of the instant, were the 
essential elements which secured success. The work of 
our young heroes was not done imperfectly. The prison- 
ers were quickly released, the arms of the captured 
British put into their hands, and, hurrying away from the 
spot which they have crowned with a local celebrity not 
soon to be forgotten, they crossed the Savannah in safety 
with their friends and foes. This is not the last achieve- 
ment of the brave Jasper which we shall have occasion to 
record. The next, however, though not less distinguished 
by success, was unhappily written in his own blood. 

The campaign which followed was distinguished by sev- 
eral vicissitudes, but the general result was the weakening 
and dispiriting of the American forces. Brigadier General 
Ashe was surprised in his camp and utterly defeated, and 
the British army not only penetrated into Georgia, but 
made its appearance at Beaufort in South Carolina. Here 
it was met by Moultrie in a spirited encounter, which re- 
sulted in a drawn battle. Meanwhile, General Lincoln 
found the militia refractory. They refused to submit to the 
articles of war, and desired to serve only under those laws 
by which the militia was governed. Chagrined with this 
resistance, Lincoln transferred the militia to Moultrie, and 
at the head of about 2000 troops of the regular service, he 
marched up the country to Augusta, proposing by this 
course to circumscribe the progress of the enemy in that 
quarter. Taking advantage of this movement, by which 
the regular troops were withdrawn from the seaboard^ the 
British General, Prevost, immediately crossed the Savannah 
with the intention of surprising Moultrie, who, with 1200 
militia-men, lay at Black Swamp. But Moultrie, advised 
Dfhis enemj', retired to Coosawhatchie, v/here he placed 



B6 L5FE0F MARION 

his rear guard ; his head quarters being pitched on the hil!, 
east of Tuliffinnee, two miles in advance, and on the route 
to Charleston. Here the rear-guard, under Colonel Lau- 
rens, engaged the enemy's advance, and was driven before 
it. Moultrie gradually re+ired as Prevost advanced, and 
the contest which followed between the two, seemed to be 
which should reach Charleston first. The defenceless con- 
dition of that cit} was known to the British General, whose 
object was to take it by coup dc main. Moultrie erred in 
not making continued fight in the swamps and strong pass- 
es, the thick forests and intricate defiles, which were nu- 
merous along the route of the pursuing army. His policy 
seems to have been dictated by an undue estimate of the 
value of the city, and the importance of its safety to the 
^state. But for this, even an army so much inferior as his, 
could have effectually checked the enemy long before the 
city could have been reached. Moultrie continued in ad- 
vance of Prevost, and reached Charleston a few hours be- 
fore him ; just in season to establish something like order, 
and put the place in a tolerable state of defence. The fire 
from the lines arrested the British advance. The place was 
summoned, and defiance returned. Night followed, and 
the next morning the enemy had disappeared. His object 
had been surprise. He was unprepared for the assault, 
having no heavy artillery, and his departure was hastened by 
intercepted advices from Lincoln and Governor Rutledge, 
which announced to the garrison the approach of the regu- 
lar troops and the country militia. Prevost retired to the 
neisihborino; islands, and established himself in a strons; fcrt 
at Stono ferry. Here he was attacked by General Lincoln 
in a spirited but unsuccessful affair, in which the latter was 
compelled to retreat. The attack of Lincoln was follow- 
ed by one of Moultrie, in galleys. The situation of the 
British became unpleasant, and they d;"d not wait a repeti- 



LIFEOFIMARION. 87 

ticn of these assaults, but retreated along the chain of islai da 
on the coast, until they reached Beaufort and Savannah. 
Both of these places they maintained ; the latter with their 
main army, the former with a strong body of troops, apart 
frona their sick, wounded and convalescent. Here they 
were watched by General Lincoln, in a camp of observa- 
tion at Sheldon, until the appearance of a French fleet on the 
coast led to renewed activity, and hopes, on the part of the 
Americans, which were destined to bitter disappointment. 

Marion was certainly with his regiment at Sheldon, and 
when it became probable that there was some prospect of 
battle, we find him at Fort Moultrie, when Prevost was 
in possession of the contiguous islands. But a junction of 
the French and American forces, necessarily compelling 
the concentration of the whole of the southern invading: 
army at Savannah, lessened the necessity of his remaining 
at a post which stood in no manner of danger. 

Early in September, 1779, the French admiral. Count 
D'Estaign, with a fleet of twenty sail, appeared upon the 
coast. As soon as this was certainly known. General Lin- 
coln put his army in motion for Savannah. But the French 
forces had disembarked before his arrival, and the impa- 
tience and imprudence of their admiral did not suffer him 
to wait the coming of the American. He was a rash man, 
and, as it appears, on bad terms with his subordinate offi- 
cers, who were, indeed, not subordinate.* He proceeded 
to summon the place. The answer to his demand was, a 
request of twenty-four hours for consideration. By a sin- 
gular error of judgment the French admiral granted the 
time required. His only hope had been in a coup de main. 
He had neither the time nor the material necessary for 
regular approaches ; nor, had he acted decisively, do these 

* Major-General T. Pincknej^'b account of siege of SavannaU. 
qurted by Garden. 



8S LIFEOFMARION. 

seem to have been at all necessary. The place "was not 
tenable at the period of his first summons. The prompt 
energies of the British commander soon made it so. Instead 
of considering, he consumed the twenty-four hours in 
working. The arriyval of Lieutenant-Colonel Cruger,witha 
small command, from Sunbury, and the force of Lieutenant- 
Colonel Maitland, from Beaufort, soon put the fortress in 
such a condition of defence as to enable its commander to 
return his defiance to the renewed summons of the com- 
bined armies. There seems to have been but one opinion 
among the Americans as to the mistake of D'Estaign, in 
granting the required indulgence. Weems, speaking for 
General Horry, says, " I never beheld Marion in so great 
a passion. I was actually afraid he would have broken out 
on General Lincoln. ^ My God!' he exclaimed, 'who 
ever heard of anything like this before ? First allow an 
enemy to entrench, and then fight him ! See the destruc- 
tion brought upon the British at Bunker's Hill — yet our 
troops there were only militia ; raw, half-armed clodhop- 
pers, and not a mortar, or carronade, not even a swivel — 
only their ducking-guns ! What, then, are we to expect 
from regulars, completely armed, with a choice train of 
artillery, and covered by a breastwork.' " 

The anticipations of Marion were fully realized. When 
the junction of the French and American armies was ef- 
fected, it was determined to reduce the place by siege. 
Batteries were to be erected, and cannon brought from the 
ships, a distance of several miles. Meanwhile, the works 
of the besieged were undergoing daily improvements, under 
an able engineer. Several hundred negroes were busy, 
day and night,upon the defences, stimulated, when necessary, 
t J exertion, by the lash. On the 4th of October the besiegers 
opened with nine mortars and thirty-seven pieces of can- 
non from the land side, and sixteen from the water They 



L I F E F M A P f N . 89 

continued to play for several days, with little effect, and 
the anxiety of the French admiral to leave the coast, at a 
season of the year when it is particularly perilous to ship- 
ping to remain, determined the besiegers to risk ever}i;hing 
upon an assault. The morning of the 9th October was 
fixed upon for the attack. The American army was 
paraded at one o'clock that morning, but it was near four 
before the head of the French column reached the front. 
" The whole army then marched towards the skirt of the 
wood in one long column, and as they approached the open 
space, was to break off into the different columns, as ordered 
for the attack. But, by the time the first French column 
had arrived at the open spaje, the day had fairly broke; 
when Count D'Estaign, without waiting until the other 
columns had arrived at their position, placed himself at the 
head of his first column, and rushed forward to the attack."* 
This was cxeditable to his gallantry, if not to his judgment. 
But it was valor thrown away. " The column was so 
severely galled by the grape-shot from the batteries, as 
they advanced, and by both grape-shot and musketry, 
when they reached the abbatis, that, in spite of the 
efforts of the officers, it got into confusion, and broke away 
to their left, toward the wood in that direction ; the second 
and third French columns shared, successively, the same 
fate, having the additional discouragement of seeing, as they 
marched to the attack, the repulse and loss of their com- 
rades who had preceded them. Count Pulaski, who, with 
the cavalry, preceded the right column of the Americans 
proceeded gallantly, until stopped by the abbatis ; and 
before he could force through it received his mortal 
wound."! The American column was much more suc- 

* Major-General Thomas Pinckney, in a letter quoted by Gaul Wy 
t Major-General Thomas Fir: :;kney. See Gardeo. 



90 L I F E <: F M A R 1 N . 

cessful. It was headed by Colonel Laurens, with the Light 
Infantry, followed by the Second South Carolina Regiment, 
of which Marion was second in command, and the lirst 
battalion of Charleston militia. This column pressed for- 
ward, in the face of a heavy fire, upon the Spring Hill 
redoubt, succeeded in getting into the ditch, and the colors? 
of the second regiment were planted upon the berm. 
But the parapet was too high to be scaled under such a 
fire as proceeded from the walls, and, struggling bravely 
but vainly, the assailants were, after suffering severe 
slaughter, driven out of the ditch. This slaughter was 
increased in the effort to retain and carry off in safety the 
colors of the regiment. 

These colors, as we have seen, were the gift of a lady. 
Moultrie, in the name of the regiment, had promised to de- 
fend them to the last. The promise was faithfully remem- 
bered in this moment of extremity. One of them was 
borne by Lieutenant Bush, supported by Sergeant Jasper ; 
the other by Lieutenant Grey, supported by Sergeant Mc' 
Donald. Bush being slightly wounded early in the action 
delivered his standard to Jasper, for better security. Jas- 
per a second time and now fatally wounded, restored it to 
the former. But at the moment of taking it. Bush received 
a mortal wound. He fell into the ditch with his ensign 
under him, and it remained in possession of the enemy. 
The other standard was more fortunate. Lieutenant Grey, 
by whom it was borne, was slain, but M'Donald plucked 
it from the redoubt where it had been planted, the moment 
the retreat was ordered, and succeeded in carrying it off in 
safety. The repulse was decisive. The slaughter, for so 
brief an engageraen-, had been terrible, amounting to nearly 
eleven hundred men ; 687 French, and 457 Americans 
Of the former, the Irish Brigade, and of the latter the 2cl 
South Carolina Reo;iment, Darticularlv distinsfuished them- 



L I F E F M A R I N . 91 

selves and sufFered most. The loss of the British was 
slight ; the assailants made no impression on their worlds 
"Thus was this fine body of troops sacrificed by the im 
prudence of the French General, who, being of superioi 
grade, commanded the whole.* In this battle Jasper was 
mortally wounded. He succeeded in regaining the camp 
of the Americans. The fatal wound Was received in his 
endeavor to secure and save his colors. Another distin- 
guished personage who fell in this fatal affair, was Col 
Count Pulaski, a brave and skdful captain of cavalry, bet 
ter known in history for his attempt upon the life of Stan 
isiaus Poniatowski, King of Poland. 

* Maior General T. Pinckiiey 



♦ 



CHAPTER VII. 

Prom the Battle of Savannah to the Defeat of Gates at Camden. 

The failure of the combined forces of France and Ame-« 
rica before the walls of Savannah, left the cause of the 
latter, in the South, in much worse condition than before. 
The event served to depress the Carolinians, and in the 
same degree, to elevate and encourage the enemy. The 
allies withdrew to their ships, and, shortly after, from the 
ccast. General Lincoln, with the American army, retreat- 
ed to the heights of Ebenezer, and thence to Sheldon. 
IVoceeding from this place to Charleston, he left Marion 
in command of the army. On the thirty-first of January. 
1780, he writes to the latter as follows : " The state of 
affairs is such as to make it necessary that we order our 
force to a point as much and as soon as possible. No 
troops will be kept in the field except two hundred Light 
Infantry and the Horse (Washington's). You will there- 
Fore please to select from the three regiments with you, 
two hundred of your best men, and those who are best 
clothed, and organize them into corps, with proper officers. 
All the remainder, with the baggage of the whole (saving 
such as is absolutely necessary for light troops), will march 
immediately for this town. You will please take command 
of the light infantry until Lieut. Col. Henderson arrives, 
which I expect will be in a few days. After that. I wi.^ii 
to see vou as soon as possible in Charleston." 



LIFEOFMARJON, 93 

In the February following, Marion was dispatched to 
Bacon's Bridge on Ashley river, where Moultrie had 
established a camp for the reception of the militia of the 
neighborhood, as well as those which had been summoned 
from the interior. It was to Marion that Lincoln chiefly 
looked for the proper drilling of the militia. In his hands 
they lost the rude and inefficient character, the inexper* 
and spiritless manner, which, under ordinary commanders 
always distinguish them. Feeling sure of their Captain, 
he, in turn, rendered them confident of themselves. Speak- 
ing of Marion's '-^patience with the militia" — a phrase of 
great importance in this connection — Horry, in his owd 
memoirs, which now lie before us, adds, " No officer lis 
the Union v/as better calculated to command them, and tc 
have done more than he did."* Lincoln knew his value. 
The admirable trainino; of the Second South Carolina Reffi- 
ment had already done high honor to his skill as a disci- 
plinarian. He discovered the secret which regularly bred 
military men are slow to discern, that, without patience, ic 
the training of citizen soldiers for immediate service, they 
are incorrigible ; and patience with them, on the part of a 
commanding officer, is neither inconsistent with their claims 
nor with their proper efficiency. 

The accumulation of troops at Bacon's Bridge was made 
with the view to the defence of Charleston, now threatened 
by the enemy. Many concurring causes led to the leaguer 
of that city. Its conquest was desirable on many ac- 
counts, and circumstances had already shown that this was 
not a matter of serious difficulty. The invasion of Prevost 
the year before, which had so nearly proved successful ; 
the little resistance which had been offered to him while 
traversing more than one hundred miles of country contigu- 
oiLS to the Capital ; and the rich sDoils which, on his retreat^ 

* MS. Memoir of Get. Horry, p. 55. 



94 LIFEOF MARION. 

had been borne off by his army, betrayed at once Che wealth 
and weakness of that region. The possession of Savannah, 
where British Government had been regularly re-establish- 
ed, and the entire, if not totally undisturbed control of 
Georgia, necessarily facilitated the invasion of the sister 
province. South Carolina was now a frontier, equally ex- 
posed to the British in Georgia, and the Tories of Florida 
and North Carolina. The means of defence in her power 
were now far fewer than when Prevost made his attempt 
on Charleston. The Southern army was, in fact, totally 
broken up. The Carolina regiments had seen hard service, 
guarding the frontier, and contending with the British in 
Georgia. They were thinned by battle and sickness to a 
mere handful. The Virginia and North Carolina regiment*' 
had melted away, as the term for which they had enlisted, 
had expired. The Georgia regiment, captured by the 
British in detail, were perishing in their floating prisons 
The weakness of the patriots necessarily increased the au- 
dacity, with the strength, of their enemies. The loyahsts, 
encouraged by the progress of Prevost, and the notorious 
inefficiency of the Whigs, were now gathering in formidable 
bodies, in various quarters, operating in desultory bands, or 
crowding to swell the columns of the British army. All 
things concurred to encourage the attempt of the enemy on 
Charleston. Its possession, with that of Savannah, would 
not only enable them to complete their ascendancy in the • 
two provinces to which these cities belonged, but would 
probably give them North Carolina also. Virginia tht^, 
becoming the frontier, it would be easy, with the co-opera- 
tion of an army ascending the Chesapeake, to traverse the 
entire South with their legions, detaching it wholly from the 
federal compact. Such was the British hope, and such 
their policy. There was yet another motive for the siege 
©f Charleston, considered without reference to collateral or 



LIFEOFMARION. 9fl 

contingent events. Esteemed erroneously as a place of 
great security —an error that arose in all probability from 
the simple fact of the successful defence of Fort Moultrie — 
it was crowded with valuable magazines. As a trading 
city, particularly while the commerce of the North remain- 
ed interrupted, it had become a place of great business. 
It was a stronghold for privateers and their prizes, and al 
ways contained stores and shipping of immense value. 

The temptations to its conquest were suificiently nume 
roius. Ten thousand choice troops, with a large and heavy 
, train of artillery, were accordingly dispatched from New 
York for its investment, which was begun in February 
17S0, and conducted by the Commander-in-Chief of the 
British- forces. Sir Henry Clinton, in person. He con- 
ducted his approaches with a caution highly complimentary 
to the besieged. The fortifications were only field works, 
and might have been overrun in less than five days by an 
audacious enemy. The regular troops within the city 
were i^t above two thousand men. The citizen militia 
increased the number to nearly four thousand. For such 
an extent of lines as encircled the place, the adequate force 
should not have been less than that of the enemy. The forti- 
fications, when the British first landed their materiel^ were 
in a dilapidated and unfinished state, and, at that time, the 
defenders, apart from the citizens, scarcely exceeded eight 
hundred men ; while the small pox, making its appearance 
within the walls, for the first time for twenty years — an 
enemy much more dreaded than the British, — effectually 
discouraged the country militia from coming to the as 
sistance of the citizens. Under these circumstances, the 
conquest would have been easy to an active and energetic 
foe. But Sir H'^nry does not seem to have been impatient 
for his laurels. He was willing that they should mature 



S6 T. IFEOFMARION 

gradually, and he sat down to a rec^ular and formal invest 
ment. 

It was an error of the Carolinians, under such cirtum'. 
stances, to risk the fortunes of the State, and the greater 
p.virt of its regular military strength, in a besieged town ; a 
still greater to do so in defiance of such difficulties as at- 
tended the defence. The policy which determined the 
resolution was a concession to the citizens, in spite of all 
military opinion. The city might have been yielded to 
the enemy, and the State preserved, or, which was the 
same thing, the troops. The loss of four thousand men from 
the ranks of active warfare, was the great and substantial 
loss, the true source, in fact, of most of the miseries and 
crimes by which the very bowels of the country were sub- 
sequently torn and distracted. 

It was the great good fortune of the State that Francis 
Marion was not among those who fell into captivity in the 
fall of Charleston. He had marched into the city from 
Dorchester, when his active services were needed for its 
defence ; but while the investment was in progress, and 
before it had been fully completed, an event occurred to 
him, an accident which was, no doubt, very much deplored 
at the time, by which his services, lost for the present, 
were subsequently secured for the country. Dining with 
a party of friends at a house in Tradd-street, the host, with 
that mistaken hospitality which has too frequently changed 
a virtue to a vice, turned the key upon his guests, to 
prevent escape, till each individual should be gorged with 
wine. Though an amiable man, Marion was a strictly 
temperate one. He was not disposed to submit to this too 
common form of social tyranny ; yet not willing to resent 
the breach of propriety by converting the assembly into a 
Dull-ring, he adopted a middle course, which displayed 
equally the gentleness and finnness of his temper. Opening 



LIFEOFMARION. 97 

a window, he coolly threw himself into the street. He 
was unfortunate in the attempt ; the apartment was on the 
second story, the height considerable, and the adventure 
cost him a broken ancle. The injury was a severe and 
shocking one, and, for the time, totally unfitted him for 
service. He left the city in a litter, while the passage to 
the country still remained open for retreat, in obedience to 
an order of General Lincoln for the departure of all idle 
mouths, " all supernumerary officers, and all officers unfit 
for duty." Marion retired to his residence in St. John's 
parish. Here, suffering in mind and body, he awaited with 
impatience the progress of events, with which, however 
much he might sympathize, he could not share. His 
humiliation at this unavoidable but melancholy inaction, 
may be imagined from what we know of his habits and his 
patriotism. 

The siege of Charleston, in consequence of the firm bear 
tng of the besieged, and the cautious policy of the British 
Government, was protracted long after the works had been 
pronounced untenable. It was yielded unwillingly to the 
conqueror, only after all resistance had proved in vain. It 
fell by famine, rather than by the arms of the enemy. The 
defence was highly honorable to the besieged. It lasted 
six weeks, in which they had displa3^ed equal courage and 
endurance. The consequences of this misfortune leave 
t somewhat doubtful, whether the determination to defend 
the city to the last extremity, was not the result of a 
cx)rrect policy ; considering less its own loss, and that of 
the army, than the effect of the former upon the rustic 
population. Certainly, the capture of the army was a vital 
misfortune to the southern States ; yet the loss of the city 
itself was of prodigious effect upon the scattered settlements 
of the country. The character and resolve of the capital 
cities, in those days, were very much the sources of the 
7 



98 LIFEOFMASItff 

moral strength of the interior. Sparseiy settle J, with 
yufrequent opportunities of communion with one another, 
the minds of the forest population turned naturally for 
their tone and direction to the capital city. The active 
attrition of rival and conflicting minds, gives, in all coun- 
tries, to the population of a dense community, an intellec- 
tual superiority over those who live remote, and feel none 
of the constant moral strifes to which the citizen is sub- 
ject. In South Carolina, Charleston had been the seat of 
the original movement, had incurred the first dangers, 
achieved the first victories, and, in all public proceedings 
where action was desirable, had always led off in the van 
To preserve intact, and from overthrow, the seat of ancient 
authority and opinion, was surely a policy neither selfish 
-nor unwise. Perhaps, after all, the grand error was, in 
not making the preparations for defence adequate to the 
object. The resources of the State were small, and these 
had been diminished wofully in succoring her neighbors, 
and in small border strifes, which the borderers might have 
been taught to manage for themselves. The military forcf 
of the State, under any circumstances, could not have 
contended on equal terms with the ten thousand well- 
appointed regulars of Sir Henry Clinton. The assistance 
derived from Virginia and North Carolina Vv^as little more 
than nominal, calculated rather to swell the triumph of 
the victor than to retard his successes. 

If the movements of the British were slow, and deficient 
in military enterprise, where Sir Henry Clinton commanded 
in person, such could not be said of therr., after the con- 
quest of Charleston was effected. The commander-in- 
chief was succeeded by Earl Cornwallis, and his career 
was certainly obnoxious to no such reproaches. We shall 
have more serious charges to bring against him. Of the 
gross abuse of power, w^anton tyrannies^ f*ruel murders, and 



LIFEOFMA.RION ^9 

Hi'dst reckless disregard of decency and ri^ht, Dy which the 
course of the British was subsequently distinguished, we 
shall say no more than will suffice to show, in what dan- 
gers, through what difficulties, and under what stimulating 
causes, Francis Marion rose in arms, when everything ap- 
peared to be lost. 

Charleston in possession of the enemy, they proceeded 
with wonderful activity to use all means in their power, 
for exhausting the resources, and brealdng down the spi- 
rit of the country. Their maxim was that of habitual 
tyranny — " might is right." They seemed to recognize 
no other standard. The articles of capitulation, the laws 
of nations, private treaty, the dictates of humanity an6 
religion, were all equally set at naught. The wealth of 
private families, — slaves by thousands, — were hurried into 
the waists of British ships, as the legitimate spoils of war. 
The latter found a market in the West India islands ; the 
prisoners made by the fall of Charleston were, in defiance 
of the articles of capitulation, crowded into prison-ships, 
from whence they were only released by death, or by 
yielding to those arguments of their keepers which per- 
suaded them to enlist in British regiments, to serve in other 
countries. Many yielded to these arguments, with the 
simple hope of escape from the horrors by which they 
were surrounded. When arts and arguments failed to over- 
come the inflexibility of these wretched prisoners, com- 
pulsion was resorted to, and hundreds Wv re forced from 
their country, shipped to Jamaica, and there made to serve 
in British regiments.* Citizens of distinction, who, by 
their counsel or presence, opposed their influence over the 
prisoners, or proved themselves superior to their tempta- 
tions, were torn from their homes without warning, and 

♦Moultrie's Memoirs, Vol. ii., Corresponamce 



100 LIFE ©F MAKIOW 

incarcerated in their floating dungeons. Notliing was for- 
borne, in the shape of pitiless and pitiful persecution, to 
break the spirits, subdue the strength, and mock and mor- 
tify the hopes, alike, of citizen and captive. 

With thos€> who kept the field the proceedings were more 
summary, if not more severe. The fall of Charleston 
seems necessarily to have invntved the safety of the country 
from the Savannah to the Pedee. In a few weeks after 
the capture of the city, the British were in peaceable pos- 
session of the space between these limits, from the seaboard 
to the mountains. They had few opponents — an isolated 
body of continentals, a small squad of militia, for the first 
time drilling for future service, or a little troop of horse — ■ 
and these were quickly overcome. On these occasions 
the British were generally led by Lieutenant-Colonel Tarle- 
ton. This officer acquired for himseF an odious distinction 
in his progress through the South in the campaigns which 
followed. He was rather an active than a skilful com- 
mander. RaLpid in his movements, he gave little heed to 
the judicious disposition of his troops, and aiming more at 
"impressing the fears of his enemy, than overcoming him by 
science, his chief successes were the result of the panic 
which his surprises and his butcheries inspired. He seems 
never to have been successful against an equal and resolute 
foe. But, as courage and activity are, perhaps, after all, 
and before all, the most necessary requisites for a soldier, 
Tarleton's services were inappreciable to the invading army. 
In one month after its arrival, his legion was mounted and 
began its career of slaughter. While yet the city was sus- 
taining the siege, he penetrated the country, in pursuit of 
those bands of militia horse, which, by direction of the 
American commander, still kept the open field. On the 
18th of March, he surprised a company of militia at Salke- 
hatchie Bridge , killed and wounded several and dispersed 



LIFEOF MARION 101 

the rest. Five days after, another party at Pon-Pon shared 
the same fortune. He was not so successful at Rantowles 
on the 23d of the same month, where in a rencounter with 
Col. Washington, his dragoons were roughly handled, and 
retreated with loss. He avenged himself, however, on 
Washington, in less than a month after, by surprising him 
at Monk's Corner. Col. White soon after took command of 
the southern cavalry, and obtained some trifling successes, 
but suffered himself to be surprised at Lenud's ferry on the 
Santee. These events all took place prior to the surrender 
of the city. The activity of Tarleton, with the general re- 
missness, and want of ordinary military precautions on the 
part of the militia which opposed itself to him, made his pro 
gress easy, and thus enabled him to cut off every party that 
was embodied in the field. He was now to succeed in a 
much more important and much more bloody enterprise. 
A Continental force from Virginia of four hundred men, un- 
der Col. Beaufort, had been dispatched to the relief of 
Charleston. Beaufort had reached Camden before he was 
apprised of the surrender of that city. This event properly 
determined him to retreat. Earl Cornwallis, meanwhile, 
had taken the field with a force of twenty-five hundred 
men, and was then in rapid progress for the Santee, Hear- 
ing of the advance of Beaufort,"^ he dispatched Tarleton in 
quest of him, with a select body of infantry and cavalry, in 
all, seven hundred men. Beaufort was overtaken near the 
Wfexhaw settlements, and summoned to surrender. This 
person does not seem to have been designed by nature for 
military operatrons. He halted at the summons, hesitated 
awhile,' sent his wagons ahead, consulted with his officers, 
and did little or nothing farther, either for flight or con- 
flict. While thus halting and hesitating he v/as attacked 
by the impetuous Tarleton, offered a feeble resistance, un- 
marked bv conduct or spirit suffered tlie enemy to gain hi« 



102 LIFEOFMARION 

rear, and finally grounded his arms. He either did this too 
soon or too late. His flag was disregarded in the flush of 
battle, the bearer of it cut down by the hand of Tarleton, 
and the British infantry, with fixed baj'-onets, rushed upon 
the inactive Americans. Some of Beaufort's men^ seeing 
that their application for quarter was disregarded, resolved 
to die like men, and resumed their arms. Their renewed fire 
provoked the massacre of the unresisting. A terrible butch- 
ery followed. The British gave no quarter. From that 
day, " Tarleton's Quarters," implying the merciless cutting 
down of the suppliant, grew into a proverbial phrase, which, 
in the hour of victory, seemed to embitter the hostility with 
which the American strove to avenge his slaughtered com- 
rades. 

The defeat of Beaufort, with the only regular force re- 
maining in the State, following so close upon the fall of 
Charleston, paralyzed the hopes of the patriots. The coun- 
try seemed everywhere subdued. An unnatural and pain- 
ful apathy dispirited opposition. The presence of a 
British force, sufficient to overawe the neighborhood, at 
conspicuous points, and the awakened activity of the To- 
ries in all quarters, no longer restrained by the presence in 
arms of their more patriotic countrymen, seemed to settle 
the question of supremacy. There was not only no head 
against the enemy, but the State, on a sudden, appeared to 
have been deprived of all her distinguished men. Moul- 
trie and others who might have led, were prisoners of 
war. Governor Rutledge, a noble spirit and famous 
orator — the Patrick Henry of Carolina, — had withdrawn to 
the North State, to stimulate the energies of the people in 
that quarter and gain recruits. His example was followed / 
by Sumter, Horry and others, — by all, in fact, who, escap- 
ing captivity, were in condition to fly. The progress of 
Cornwallis and Tarleton left mere distinction, unsupported 



LIFEOFMARIONT. 103 

DT men, with few places of secui^ity. Marion, meanwhile, 
incapable of present flight, was compelled to take refuge 
in the swamp and forest. He was too conspicuous a per- 
son, had made too great a figure in previous campaigns, 
and his military talents were too well known and too high- 
ly esteemed, not to render him an object of some anxiety 
as well to friends as foes. Still suffering from the hurts 
recei^'ed in Charleston, with bloody and malignant enemies 
all around him, his safety depended on his secrecy and 
obscurity alone. Fortunately he had " won golden opinions 
from all sorts of people." He had friends among all class- 
es, who did not permit themsely<^s to sleep while he was 
in danger. Their activity supp.ied the loss of his own. 
They watched while he slept. They assisted his feeble- 
ness. In the moment of alarm, he was sped from house 
to hpuse, from tree to thicket, from the thicket to the 
swamp. His " hair-breadth 'scapes" under these frequent 
exigencies, were, no doubt, among the most interesting 
adventures of his life, furnishing rare material, could they 
be procured, for the poet and romancer. Unhappily, while 
the chronicles show the frequent emergency which at- 
tended his painful condition, they furnish nothing more. 
We are without details. The melancholy baldness and 
coldness with which they narrate events upon which one 
would like to linger is absolutely humbling to the imagi- 
nation ; which, kindled by the simple historical outline, 
looks in vain for the satisfaction of those doubts and inqui- 
ries, those hopes and fears, which the provoking narrative 
inspires only to defraud. How would some old inquisi« 
tive Froissart have dragged b}" frequent inquiry from con- 
temporaneous lips, the particular fact, the whole adventure, 
step by step, item by item, — the close pursuit, the narrow 
escape, — and all the long train of little, but efficient cir- 
cumstances, by which the st)ry would have been mado 



J 0'« L I F E F M A R I N . 

unique, with all its rich and numerous details ! These, 
the reader must supply from his own resources oHmagina-i 
tion. He must conjecture for himself the casual warning 
brought to the silent thicket, by the devoted friend, the 
constant woman, or the humble slave ; the midnight bay of 
the watch dog or the whistle of the scout ; or the sudden 
shot, from friend or foe, by which the fugitive is counsel- 
led to hurry to his den. A thousand events arise to the 
imagination as likely to have occurred to our partisan, in 
his' hours of feebleness and danger, from the rapid cavalry 
of Tarleton, or the close and keen pursuit of the revenge- 
ful Tories. To what slight circumstances has he been in-, 
debted for his frequent escape ! What humble agents have 
been commissioned by Providence to save a life, that w^as 
destined to be so precious to his country's liberties ! 

How long he remained in this situation is not exactly 
known, — probably several months. As soon as he was able 
to mount his horse, he collected a few friends, and set out 
for North Carolina. A Continental force was on its way 
from ^''irginia under Baron De Kalb. His purpose was to 
join it. It was while on this route, and with this object 
that he encountered his old friend and long tried associate 
in arms. Col. P. Horry.* 

Horry describes his ancle, at this meeting, as still " verj 
crazy" — so much so that it required his help and that of 

* There were two Horrys, brothers, both of whom were very 
brave and distinguished adherents of our partisan. Peter Horry 
held a captain's commission in the same regiment with Marion 
at the battle of Fort Moultrie. Hug-h Horry was the particular 
favorite of his General. A life of Marion, purporting to be in 
part by the former, but really composed entirely by the Rev. M. 
L. Weems, from facts fu^ished by Horry, is already well known 
to the public. A MS. life of Peier Horry is now before me, 
and has furnished me with several illustrations of the war, I'uring 
this narrative. Both vf these brothers served under Ma'jon, to 
the close of the warj Tith equal courage and fideli;y 



-^ 



I, I F E F y A R I O N , 1 0''^ 

Marion's servant to lift him fro.n his horse. But his spirits 
were good. He was still cheerful, and possessed that rare 
elasticity of character which ne^er loses its tone under pri- 
vations and disappointments. Weems, who, we are com- 
pelled to admit, very frequently exercised the privilege of 
the ancient historian, of putting fine speeches into the 
mouth of his hero, tells us that he jeered at the doleful 
expressions of his companion, Horry, who, discussing the 
condition of the country, lamented that their " happy days 
were all gone." " Our happy days all 'gone, indeed !'' 
answered Marion — " on the contrary, they are yet to come. 
The victory is still sure. The enemy, it is true, have all 
the trumps, and if they had but the spirit to play a gene- 
rous game, they would certainly ruin us. But they have no 
idea of that game. They will treat the people cruelly, and 
that one thing will ruin them and save the country." 
Weems, speaking for Horry, describes in ludicrous terms, 
their journey through North Carolina, — through a region 
swarming with Tories, but, fortunately for our travellers, 
who were venomous without being active. Our fugitives 
were without money and without credit, and " but for car- 
rying a knife, or a horse fleam, a a gun-flint, had no more 
use for a pocket than a Higlander has for a knee-buckle. 
As to hard money we had not seen a dollar for years.?' In 
this resourceless condition — a condition, which, it may be 
well to say in this place, continued throughout the war, 
they made their way with difficulty until they joined the 
Continental army. Gates had superseded De Kalb in its 
command, and was pressing forward,with the ambition, seem- 
ingly, of writing a despatch like Csesar's, announcing, in 
the same breath, the sight and conquest of his enemy. Ma- 
rion and his little troop of twenty men, made but a sorry 
figure in the presence of the Continental General. Gates 
was a man of moderate abilities, a vain man, of a swuliiag 



106 LIFE OF MARION. 

and ostentatious habit, whose judgment was very apt to be 
affected by parade, and the external show of things. Some 
of his leading opinions were calculated to show that he was 
unfit for a commander in the South. For example, he 
thought httle of cavalry, which, in a plain country, sparsely 
settled, was among the first essentials of success, as well 
in securing intelligence, as in procuring supphes. It was 
not calculated therefore to raise the troop of our partisan in 
his esteem, to discover that they were all good riders and 
well mounted. Marion, himself, was a man equally mo 
dest in approach and unimposing in person. His followers 
may have provoked the sneer of the General, as it certainly 
moved the scorn and laughter of his well-equipped Conti- 
nentals. We have a description of them from the pen ot 
an excellent officer, the Adjutant General of Gates' army 
He says, " Col. Marion, a gentleman of South Carolina, haa 
been with the army a few days, attended by a very few 
followers, distinguished by small leather caps, and the 
wretchedness of their attire ; their number did not exceed 
twenty men and boys, some white, some black, and all 
mounted, but most of them miserably equipped ; their ap- 
pearance was in fact so burlesque, that it was with much 
difficulty the diversion of the regular soldiery was restrained 
by the officers ; and the General himself was glad ot an op- 
portunity of detaching Col. Marion, at his own instance, to- 
wards the interior of South Carolina, with orders to watch 
the motions of the enemy and furnish intelligence."* 

From such small and insio-nificant beo;innino"s flow sfreat- 
ness and great performances. We, who are in possession 
of all the subsequent events — who see this proud, vain 
Commander, hurrying- on with the rapidity of madness to 
hiS own ruin-can but smile in- the perusal of such a narra- 

' Narrat^.vo of the Campaign of 1780, by Col. Otho Williams. 



LIFE OF MARION. 107 

tive, not at the rags of Marion's men, but at the undiscern- 
ing character of those who could see, in the mean equip- 
ment, the imperfect clothing, the mixture of man and boy, 
and white and black, anything but a noble patriotism, 
which, in such condition, was still content to carry on a 
wax Against a powerful enemy. The very rags and pov- 
erty of this little band, which was afterwards to become so 
famous, were so many proofs of their integrity and virtue, 
and should have inspired respect rather than ridicule. They 
were so many guarantees of good service which they were 
able and prepared to render. It was in defiance of the temp- 
tations and the power of the foe, that these men had taken the 
field against him, and had Gates been a wise commander, he 
would have seen even through their rags and destitution, 
the small but steady light of patriotism ; which, enkindled 
throughout the State by the example of Marion, Sumter, 
and a few others, was to blaze out finally into that perfect 
brightness before which the invader was to shrink con- 
founded. 

Gates was wise enough to take counsel of Marion, if 
nothing more ; and even this might not have been done, but 
for the suggestions of Governor Rutledge, who, at that 
time in the camp of the Continentals, might very well have 
informed him of the value of the man w^hose followers in- 
spired only ridicule. It was with Marion that the plan 
Was concerted, and not improbably at his sugo;estion, for 
moving into the very heart of the State. This, subsequent- 
ly, was the policy of Greene, and had Gates adopted the 
deliberate caution of that commander, his successes would 
unquestionably have been the same. The object of such 
a movement was to give an opportunity to the native 
patriots to rally — to compel the British to concentrate their 
scattered forces, call in their detacbed parties, and thus 
circumscribe their influence, within the State, to the peaces 



108 LiFEOFMARION 

where they still remained in force. To effect these ob* 
jects, the Fabian maxims of warfare should have been 
those of the American General. Few of his militia had 
ever seen an enemy. He had but recently joined his troops, 
knew nothing of them, and they as little of him. Their 
march had been a fatiguing one. Time and training were 
necessary pre-requisites for their improvement and his 
success. Unhappily, these weie the very agents with 
which the vanity of the unfortunate commander made him 
most willing to dispense. The victory at Saratoga had 
spoiled him for ever, and thinking too much of himself, he 
committed the next great error of a soldier, that of think- 
ing too lightly of his foe. It would be idle and perhaps 
impertinent, to suggest that if Marion had been suffered to 
remain with him, the issue of this march might have been 
more fortunate. Gates was quite too vain-glorious to 
listen and Marion quite too moderate to obtrude his opi- 
nions ; and yet Marion was a man of equal prudence and 
adroitness. He could insinuate advice, so that it would 
appear to self-conceit the very creature of its own concep- 
tions. Had Marion remained, could Gates have listened, 
we are very sure there would have been no such final, fe- 
tal disaster as suddenly stopped the misdirected progress, 
of the Continental army. There would have been some 
redeeming circumstances to qualify the catastrophe. All 
would not have been lost. At all events, with Marion ^t 
their head, the militia would have fought awhile, — would 
have discharged their pieces, once, twice, thrice, before 
they fled. They would have done for the bom-leader of 
militia, what they refused to do for a commander v.he 
n-iither knew how to esteem, nor how to conduct them. 

It was while Marion was in the camp of Gates, tliat a 
messenger from the Whigs of Williamsburg, then newly 
risen in arms, summoned him to be their leader. It was ip 



LIFE OF MARION. 109 

consequencf; of this invitation, and not because of the awk- 
»vardness of his position there, that he determined to pene- 
trate into South Carolina, in advance of the American army. 
Such an invitation was not to be neglected. Marion well 
knew its importance, and at once accepted the commission 
conferred upon him by Governor Riitledge. He took leave 
of Gates accordingly, having received, as is reported, cer- 
tain instructions from that unhappy commander, to employ 
his men in the destruction of all the scows, boats, ferry-llats 
and barges on the route, by wdiich the enemy might make 
his escape. The fancy of the American General already 
beheld the army of Lord Cornwallis in full flight. His 
great solicitude seems to have been how to secure his cap- 
tives. He had, strangely enough for a mihtary man, never 
taken counsel of the farm-yard proverb, which we need not 
here repeat fpr the benefit of the reader. With the depart- 
ure of Marion, his better genius left him, — the only man, 
who, in command of the militia, might have saved him from 
destruction. Leaving our partisan, with his little squad, to 
make his way cautiously through a country infested with 
Tories, we follow for the present the progress of the Conti- 
nental army. On the night of the fifteenth of August, 1 780, 
the Americans moved from Rugely's Mills. At midnight, 
without dreaming of an en^my, they encounterea him. 
The first intelligence communicated to either army of the 
presence of the other, was from the fire of the British ad- 
vance upon the Americans. The two armies recoiled and 
lay upon their arms the rest of the night. So far the affair 
was indecisive. The Americans had sustained themselves 
in the face of some disadvantages, chiefly the result of their 
leader's imprudence. A night march of raw militia in the 
face of a foe, and in column of battle, was itself an error 
which a sao-acious commander would never have made. 

o 

It is not to be denied, that the Americans were not satis- 



no I- r F K 01' MARION 

im\ wiih llicir ^ilunlion. Souk' of llicir ofTic* rs openly do- 
(•lured llicir disconlciiL Hul. it vvjis loo liil.C! for u iclro- 
/.'^ladc. iiiovcmcnl, nor is il iil<«'ly, !( cliiij^ .is lie did ;uid sun-. 
jjijuilK* iiH li«; was, (lial (ilalcH would liavc Ix-licvcd any siK^h 
inovcMiciil, ncccs.sary. 'i"h<* ji;roiiiid was ('(jiially unknown 
to liolli (-onintandcrs ; Iml. ( 'Oi iivvallis had ono advaiitago : 
liii was in l.lic conmiand of v<'l.crans, who atr <.';(iicrally cool 
t'nou'!;li in, such Niiua.(i(»ns lo looU ahonl llcni, ;in<l nnikc t}»e 
nioslof their cxi}^cn<*ic.s. 'I'hc. American line was soon 
formed and in wiiitinjjj for th(i dawn and the enemy. Tin; 
firnt Maryland division, inidiniin:^ the I )(dawa.rcN nnder l)(i 
Kali), was posted on the ri'j'ht ; the Virj^inia inilitia, un<ler 
Slevens on the ieCt ; the North ('jiroiiniaiis, N-d hy (/asweil 
in the centre; and Ihe artillery, in hattery, ii|)on the road. 
|{olii winj^^s rested on morasses, and the sec-ond Ma,iylan<l 
l)ii;^a(le was post<d as a res(n*V(^, ;i ft^w hundred yards in 
th<^ r«ar of the tirst. The Ihitish Twrnied a. sin<;l(! line, with 
each wiiiL^ coverctl and supported i)y a hody in reserve. 
They were much less iMuncious than the A mciicatiH, but 
they were picked men, the choicer of the ic^iments in 
('harleston and Caniden. 'I'he. American militia, of which 
<.he |:;realer part of ( Jates^ ariny consisled, had nev<'r felt an 
"nemy*s lire. 'I'he IVlaryland an<l l)(davvare troops were 
^ood soldiers, well trained and in contidenc<^ of tiieir lead- 
ers. VVilh 111'" hreak of (lay,an(l tln^ ad vJlnc.(M)f the Ameri- 
can left, the action l)e;i;an. 'I'his division of tfie army con- 
sisted of Viri'inia, militia, un<ler St<'V<'ns. Handled with im- 
expe( )('(! severity hy thc^ British (ir(^, they yi(dded heloro 
it and lle(i in panic, immy of them witiioiit even dischar^- 
in;-; tlieir pieces. The wret<died examph^ was followi-d hy 
the North Carolina militia, with Ihe <'Xception of a sin<de 
i*.ori)N, c()nnna.n(l(Ml hy Major Dixon. 'Ihe cavalry nndir 
A.rmund,a ibreij^n adventurer, hroki^ at nearly the .sani(Mrio 
ment ; andacharge afthe Hrllisli cavalry, hai>pily tinieil, put 



1. 1 V y. (} y M A h / o ,v . 1 1 i 

«a c/»»l to fA\ \\(>\i(', of nxWy'iw^ the. U-Aior-'AU'uMf'.n inuWtv.H. 
I'hfj fJ<'-voL'-'i (yontiri'^ritals alofjf; k<-pt Uirtir '/H)\in<\ arnj hopj 
the [>runt of t.fi<-, ;j/:iion. 'i li':y w-.f. J<td by tb« vaUtran 
iJa Kaib — lh(; Cornrnand'ir in (.^lii'^f havin;.^ huni<MJ from th« 
fu;ld in a vain atUitnpt to brin;^ tin; militia b5i^:k. 'J'li'; ar- 
tillery was lost, th'j cavalry (ii«pf;rHed ; — the regulars, num- 
bi'.fin'^ hut nine ijuridn'.d men, were required to hear the 
uri'JividefJ pressure of two thousand of the hest troojm la 
the iiritish mvvmu With tlie example before them, the 
des'trtion of tfjeir General, and their own perfect i»ola- 
tion, they v/ouKJ liave been jiwtifie^J by i\\'; n^'xessity of 
the case, in inr^tantf]if(ht. ]iut,aM if tbe cowar<iice of their 
cf^untryrnen ha<J atung th(;fn into a det^.'rmlnation f/>Hhow, 
at all liazards, that they, at least were made of v<-,ry 'Jif- 
fer<;nt stuff, tbey not only resisU^d the attack of the enemy, 
hut ciinh-A the hayon(;t into his ranks. 7'he ('Ami\>ii,Umi^ 
ru^ihe'l and reeled together with locki;d weapons, iiut thi» 
Htrug^rle could not hist. The conflict was prolonged only 
until the iJritish cavalry could return from pursuing the fu- 
gitives. Their sabres gave the finishing stroke trj the afiair. 
iJe Kalb ha^l fallen under eleven wounds, and notbing re- 
mainefi,but flight, to save this galknt borjy from lb<-, morti- 
fication of hurr<',nder on the field of battle, it v/a;s no con- 
solation to GaU^s, whih*. f]<',e,irig t^) Xorth Carolina, to be 
overtaken by mesflengrmi from Sumt/;r, announcing a f_^al- 
lant achi<:V':ment of that brave parf-isan, by v/hlch forty 
wagons of booty and nearly thre^e hundred pnV>ners h;id 
fallen int^j hi» lianrlH. Such tidings only mocked hi» own 
Al-iiiHU'j. He c^>uld only, in reply, relate his own irretriev- 
able def/;at, point to his fugitives, and cj)nn:i<:\ Sumter to 
immediiite retreat from his triumphant and now returning; 
enemy. Unhappily, ignorant of (jnUm^ dhanU'Sj and of a 
bold, jocautioua t<;mper, Surntr^r was appro;j/d»ing, rathe* 
titan haHte-ninr/ i'r<i\Uy<hiu%('.r IDs fh^rht when he did re 



112 LIFEOFMARIO N-* 

tire, was not sufficiently rapid, nor sufficiently prudent. 
He was one of those men who too quickly feel themselves 
secure. He was surprised by Tarleton, but two days after, 
his troops utterly dispersed, he, too, a fugitive like Gates, 
with all the fruits of his late victory taken from his grasp. 
In almost every instance where the Americans suffered de- 
feat, the misfortune was due to a want of proper caution — 
an unobservance of some of the simplest rules of military 
prudence. In a brilliant sortie, a manful charge, a sudden 
onslaught, no troops could have surpassed them — nay, we 
find as many examples of the sternest powers of human en- 
durance, under the severest trials of firmness, in their mili 
tary history, as in that of any other people. But to secure 
what they had won — to be consistently firm — always on 
their guard and beyond surprise, — were lessons which they 
were slow to acquire — which they learned at last only un- 
der the heaviest penalties of blood. Marion was one of the 
few Captains of American militia, \^ho never suffered him 
gelf to be taken napping 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Organizalicn of " Marion's Brigade." Surprise of Tories undei 
Gainey — Defeat of Barfield — Capture of British Guard with 
Prisoners at Nelson's Ferry. 

The people of Williamsburg, by whom Marion was sum* 
moned from the camp of Gates, were sprung generally from 
Irish parentage. They inherited, in common with all the 
descendants of the Irish in America, a hearty detes';ation 
of the English name and authority. This feeling rendered 
them excellent patriots and daring soldiers, wherever the 
British Lion was the object of hostility. Those of whom 
we are now to speak, the people of Williamsburg, were 
men generally of fearless courage, powerful frame, well- 
stvung nerves, and an audacious gallantry that led them to 
delight in dangers, even where the immediate objects by 
no means justified the risk. They felt that " rapture oi 
the strife," in which the Goth exulted. In addition to 
these natural endowments for a brave soldiery, they were 
good riders and famous marksmen — hunters, that knew 
the woods almost as well by night as by day — could wind 
about and through the camp of an enemy, as , free from 
suspicion as the velvet-footed squirrel, who, from the lateral 
branches of the pine, looks over their encampment. They 
possessed resources of knowledge and ingenuity, while in 
swamp and thicket, not merely to avoid the danger, but, in 
not unfrequent instances, to convert it to their own advan- 
8 



114 L^. FEOF MARION. 

tage Nothing but the training and directioi. of such a 
mind as Marion's was needed to make, of these men. the 
most efficient of all partisan soldiery. The formation of 
the brigade of which he now prepared to take command, 
has a history of its own which is worth telling. The fame 
which it subsequently acquired in connection with its 
leader's name, and which the local traditions will not will- 
ingly let die, will justify us in the narration. Some few 
preliminary facts are necessary. 

The fall of Charleston, and the dispersion or butchery of 
those parties which had kept the field after that event, 
necessarily depressed the spirits and discouraged the at- 
tempt of the scattered patriots who still yearned to oppose 
the invaders. The captivity of many of the leaders to 
whom they were accustomed to look for counsel and di- 
rection , and the flight of others, served still further to 
dissipate any hopes or purposes which they might have had 
of concentration. Thousands fled to the North, and embo- 
died themselves under Washington and other American 
Generals, despairing of the cause at home. Everything 
appeared to be lost, and a timely proclamation of Sir Henry 
Clinton, a few days after the surrender of Charleston, 
tended yet more to subdue the spirit of resistance. The 
proclamation proffered " pardon to the inhabitants" with 
some few exceptions, '' for their past treasonable offences, 
and a reinstatement in their rights and immunities hereto- 
fore enjoyed, exempt from taxation, except by their own 
legislature." This specious ofTer, made at a moment 
when his power was at its height, everywhere unquestion- 
ed and unopposed, indicated a degree of magnanimity, 
which in the case of those thousands in every such contest, 
who love repose better than virtue, was everywhere cal- 
culated to disarm the inhabitants. To many indeed it seem- 
ed to 7 ^rnise all for which they had been contendmg. It 



LIFEOF MARION 115 

>i!ered security from furlher injury, protection ag&mst the 
Tories who were using the authority of the British for their 
own purposes of plunder and revenge, a respite from their 
calamities, and a restoration of all their rights. With 
the immunities thus proffered, with the further conviction 
that further struggle against British power was hopeless, 
with the assurance, indeed, which was industriously con- 
veyed to them from all quarters, that Congress, not able 
to assist, had resolved upon yielding the provinces of South 
Carolina and Georgia to .the enemy, as considerations for 
the independence of the other colonies— they accepted the 
terms thus offered them by the British commander, and, in 
great numbers, signed declarations of allegiance, received 
protection as subjects of the crown, or, as prisoners of war, 
were paroled to their plantations. Could the British have 
persevered in this policy, had they kept faith with the inha- 
bitants, they might much longer have held possession of the 
country. But, either they were not sincere in their first 
professions, or their subsequent necessities compelled them 
to adopt a less rational policy. Twenty days had not elapsed 
from the publication of the first proclamation when it was 
followed by another, which so entirely qualified and impaired 
the character of the former, as to revolt the people whom it 
had invited, and to impress them with the conviction that 
they had been imposed upon — that the first measure was 
a mere decoy, — a trap involving their pledges, yet with- 
holding the very securities for which they had been given. 
This second proclamation, premising that it was necessary 
for all good citizens to uphold his Majesty's Government, 
proceeded to discharge from protection and parole all 
persons to whom such papers had been accorded. All 
persons not absolutely prisoners of war, taken in arms, were 
to be reinstated in their former positions as citizens — but^ 
as citizens of the British Empire In this relation the far 



il6 LI F E F i! A R 1 ON 

ther inferences were inevitable. Tliey were now actually 
to support his ]\Iajest\-'s Government. The proclamation 
ended with the usual penalties— all who neglected to return 
to their allegiance were to be treated as rebel;?. 

The policy thus adopted by the British commander soon 
made them so. The object of the Carolinians, in taking 
protections and paroles, was to avoid further warfare. The 
second proclamation of the British General required them 
to take up arms for his ^Majesty, and against their countr}^- 
men. This was a hopeful plan by which to fill the British 
regiments, to save farther importations of Hessians, farther 
cost of mercenaries, and, as in the case of the Aborigines, tc 
employ the Anglo-American race against one another. 
The loyalists of the South were to be used against the 
patriots of the IS'orth, as the loyalists of the latter region 
had been employed to put down the liberties of the former. 
It was a short and ingenious process for finishing the re- 
bellion ; and, could it have entirely succeeded, as in part 
it did, it would have entitled Sir Henrj^ Clinton to very far 
superior laurels, as a civilian, to those he won as a soldier. 
The value of the Americans, as soldiers, was verj^ well 
known to the British General. Some of the most sangui- 
nar}^ battles of the Revolution were those in which the 
combatants on both sides were cliiefiy natives of the soil, 
upon which a portion of them but too freely shed their 
blood in a sincere desire to bolster up that foreign tyranny 
that mocked the generous valor which it employed. 

The effect of this second proclamation of the British 
commander was such as he scarcely anticipated. The 
readiness with which numbers of the people had accepted 
paroles and protections, declared, at most, nothing but their 
indifference to the contest — declared no preference foi 
British domination. In this lay the error of the conqueroi. 
The natural feeling of the people, thus entrapped, war 



Lirz 1 :5£i.i^i-5. 117 

thai (rfindigDaaoiL Tneir ievtjmmscdoQ nilz^i hare beea 

up arms — not prmilr^ed to enjoy tl:^ rep:_. ._ -jLeir 
fajTiHirs. lor whicli they soc^u the ccere>d kmrju^^s (A 
the Erliish — it was mere e^ : ii^e of tiieir 

cc'.iii:r7Tiieii. to w^Licli tLr reaZj grreu, 

thaii thai oi dis inva-ier. TLrv La^i coniiniiied a great azvl 
Liiiiiili:^ err^r in :ie ^iii^i-:: ' — zi 

t^kinz :^^ 7::r^7^; 77 ::v:r:' -iz- 

ed will . it w£5 wnit yyr^ 

: :ji-n- .n rim 

::. - r -_ - _ n was s^ ,_ , - :. :zi 

the 1- ; iraTes. Tiirse brsre fellows. oai^L^s hjz a T>3r- 



borg- and a part of 3Iar:c^ were not aXtoseiner ^^zmi^i 
to tmcT: 7 iizs- TheTr w^ere 

IK) grei nd "rsssslsi!^, szad 

natnTaiiy suspected aii lib^raiHy oi Bziiisli cr.^^ Tb^ 

wished for certain e3:~ * ^^ " belcre ti^y sent in their 

adhesion. iN^ot that : ite-i isp«"'n r«5-?i<ran<^. This, 

no doobt, seemed to theiii ^ :^i in aZl 

<ither parts of the S ?^ ^„_ _ rcsiikp, 

which left ihem n^^' ^ :.: ine rme c:nL:n:n of 

th in gs, was-ai the ssn lad 

indiuerence. As yet. not 

penetrated into their settlements. Ttey were r^nirally 
anxioos to prevent their coisg so. Under these cirenn^ 
stances, they held a gathering c^ their besr zneii for the 
porpose of ccmsultiiig npc» tiidr al^ns. The twm pn>- 
damaxioQs — how unlike !— erf" the Briti^ cammaad^T.we^e 
be&ee Tiem : and, in their jsimitiTe •gqpwiKIy ifepy sal 



118 LIFEOF MARION. 

down to discuss their separate merits. These confused 
rather than enlightened them, and it was resolved to send 
one of their number, in whom they had most confidence^ 
to the nearest British authority, in order that their difficul- 
ties should be explained and their doubts satisfied. There 
was one sterling family among them of the name of James. 
Of this family there were five brothers, John, William, 
Gavin, Robert and James. No men under Marion were 
braver or truer than these. Fearless, strong and active, 
they were always ready for the foe ; the first in attack, the 
last in retreat. There were other branches of this family 
who partook largely of the qualities of the five brothers. Of 
these,the eldest. Major John James, was chosen the represen- 
tative of the men of Williamsburg. This gentleman had been 
their representative in the provincial assembly — he was in 
command of them as State militia. They gave him their 
fullest confidence, and he deserved it. 

Under this appointment. Major James repaired to George- 
town, the nearest British post, which was then under the 
command of one Captain Ardesoif. Attired as a plain 
backwoodsman, James obtained an interview with Arde- 
soif, and, in prompt and plain terms, entered at once upon 
the business for which he came. But when he demanded 
the meaning of the British protection, and asked upon what 
terms the submission of the citizens was to be made, he 
was peremptorily informed that '^ the submission must be 
unconditional." To an inquiry, whether the inhabitants 
were to be allowed to remain upon their plantations, h« 
was answered in the negative. " His Majesty," said Arde 
soif, " offers you a free pardon, of which you are undeserv 
ing, for you all ought to be hanged ; but it is only on con- 
dition that you take up arms in his cause " James, whom 
we may suppose to have been very far from relishing the 
tone and language in which he was addressed, very cooilj, 



LIFEOFMARIOX. 119 

• 

replied, that ^' the people whom he came to refresmt^ 
would scarcely submit on such conditions." The repub- 
lican language of the v/orthy Major provoked the represen- 
tative of Royalty. The word ' represent,' in particular, 
smote hardly on his ears ; something, too, in the cool, con- 
temptuous manner of the Major^ may have contributed to 
his vexation. " Represent .'" he exclaimed in a fury — 

" You d d rebel, if you dare speak in such language, 

I will have you hung up at the yard-arm !" Ardesoif, it 
must be known, was a sea captain. The ship which he 
commanded lay in the neighboring river. He used only 
an habitual form of speech when he threatened the " yard- 
arm," instead of the tree. Major James gave him no time 
to make the correction. He was entirely weaponless, and 
Ardesoif wore a sword ; but the inequality, in the mo- 
ment of his anger, was unfelt by the high-spirited citizen. 
Suddenly rising, he seized upon the chair on which he 
had been sitting, and floored the insolent subordinate at a 
blow ; then hurrying forth without giving his enemy time 
to recover, he mounted his horse, and made his escape to 
the woods before pursuit could be attempted. 

His people were soon assembled to hear his story. The 
exactions of the British, and the spirit which James had 
displayed, in resenting the insolence of Ardesoif, at on&e 
aroused their own. Required to take the field, it did not 
need a moment to decide " under which king." The resuK 
of their deliberations was the formation of " Marion's 
Brigade." Four captains were chosen for as many com- 
panies. These were. Captains William M'Cottry, Henry 
Mouzon, John James (of the Lake, a cousin of Major 
James), and John M'Cauley. These were all under the 
one command of our representative to Ardesoif. He 
instantly put them into motion, and, after some pett}'- suc- 
cesses against small parties of British and Tories, he ad 



120 LIFECF MARION, 

vanced on<^. of the four companies, M'Cottry's, to the pass 
of Lynch's Creek, at Witherspoon^s Ferry. Here 
M'Cottry heard of Col. Tarleton, and proceeded to en- 
counter him. Tarleton had been apprised of the gatherings 
it Williamsburg, and, at the head of some seventy men, 
was pressing forward with the hope of surprising James. 
IvPCottry, more brave perhaps than prudent, after sending 
back to James for a reinforcement, set forward to give 
Tarleton battle. The British Colonel had taken post at 
Kingstree. M'Cottry approached him at midnight. It 
happened, perhaps fortunately for the former, that Tarleton 
had received some very exaggerated accounts of M'Cottry 's 
force, which the boldness of his approach seemed to con- 
firm. Taking the alarm accordingly, he disappeared in 
season, leaving to M'Cottry the eclat which necessarily 
attended his attempt. The excesses of Tarleton, while on 
this progress, and the crimes committed in the same neigh- 
borhood by other British captains about the same time, 
completed the movement which the native spirit of patriot- 
ism in the men of Williamsburg had so happily begun. 
The whole country was soon awakened — individuals and 
groups everywhere beginning to show themselves in arms, 
and nothing was needed but an embodied force of the Ame- 
ricans, upon which they could concentrate themselves and 
rally with effect. 

It was on the 10th or 12th of August, some four days 
before the defeat of Gates, that Marion reached the post at 
Lynch's Creek, where M*Cottry had taken his position. 
He was commissioned by Governor Rutledge to take com- 
mand of the country in this quarter, and we will hence- 
forth distinguish him as General Marion, although it is nos 
so certain at what period he actually received this promo- 
tion ; — we find him in possession of it in the following Oe« 
cember. 



LIFE OF M A R I N 121 

Of liis personal appearance at this time we feave a brief 
Dut striking account from the hands of the venerable Judge 
James — a son of the Major — who had the honor to serve 
under Marion at the age of fifteen 

" He was a stranger," says the Judge, " to the officers 
and men, and they flocked about him to obtain a sight of 
their future commander. He was rather below the middle 
stature, lean and swarthy. His body was well set, but his 
knees and ancles were badly formed, and he still limped 
upon one leg. He had a countenance remarkably steady ; 
his nose was aquiline, his chin projecting ; his forehead 
large and high, and his eyes black and piercing. He was 
then forty-eight years of age, with a frame capable of 
enduring fatigue and every privation." Of his dress, by 
which we may form some idea of that costume which had 
provoked the laughter of Gates' veterans, we have a 
description also, furnished us by the same excellent author- 
ity. We know not but that this description will provoke 
the smile of the reader. But, of such persons, in the lan- 
guage of the Judge, " even trifles become important." 
^' He (Marion) was dressed in a close round-bodied crim- 
son jacket, of a coarse texture, and wore a leather cap, 
part of the uniform of the second regiment, with a silver 
crescent in front, inscribed with the words, ' Liberty or 
Death!'" 

Such regimentals show rather the exigencies than the 
tastes of our partisan. This scarlet cloth, of which his 
vest was made, was almost the only kind of color which 
the Carolinians could procure after the conquest of Charles- 
ton. The British seemed to distribute it with the protec- 
tions and pardons, perhaps as a popular mode of dissemi- 
nating their principles. Moultrie somewhere tells a ludi- 
crous anecdote of some Americans (prisoners on parole) 
who were nearly cut to pieces by a party of their country- 



122 LIFE OF M A K 1 : N . 

men, in consequence of their scarlet jackets. They had 
taken the precaution to dye them with some native roots, 
but the dye had disappeared, leaving the original color 
nearly as vivid as before. 

According to Weems, Marion made rather a theatrical 
display on taking command of his brigade. He svv^ore them 
in a circle upon their swords, never to yield the contest 
until they had secured their own and the liberties of their 
country. There is no authority for this statement, either 
in the work of James, in the MS. of Horry, or in any of 
the authorities. There is no doubt that such were his own 
sentim.ents, and such the sentiments w^hich he strove to im- 
part to all his followers ; but the scene as described by the 
reverend historian was quite too artificial and theatrical 
for the tastes of Marion. It does not accord with what we 
know of his modesty, his unaffected nature, and the general 
simplicity of his manners. He instilled his lessons by ex- 
amples rather than by speeches. His words were usually 
very few. He secured the fidelity of his men by carrying 
them bravely into action, and bringing them honorably out 
of it. 

Marion's career of activity commenced with his com- 
mand. Though always prudent, he yet learned that pru- 
dence in military life must always imply activity. The in- 
security of the encampment, with a militia force, is always 
greater than that of battle. The Roman captains of cele- 
brity were particularly aware of this truth. But the acti- 
vity of Marion was necessarily straitened by the condition 
in \v^hich he found his men They were wretchedly defi- 
cient in all the materials of service. His first effort to sup- 
ply some of their wants, was in sacking the saw-mills. 
The saws were wrought and hammered by rude black 
smiths into some resemblance to sabres, and thus provided, 
Marion set his men in moti:-Q, two days after taking the 



LIFE OF MARION. 123 

command. Crossing the Pedee at Port's Ferry, he advanc- 
ed upon a large body of Tories commanded by Major Gai- 
ney, who held a position upon Britton's Neck. Gainey was 
considered by the British an excellent partisan officer, but 
he was caught napping. Marion moved with equal secrecy 
and ce.erity. After riding all night, he came upon the ene- 
my at dawn in the morning. The discovery and the attack 
were one. The surprise was complete. A captain and 
several privates were slain, and the party dispersed. Ma- 
rion did not lose a man, and had but two wounded. In 
this engagement, our representative. Major James, distin- 
guished himseli by singling out Major Gainey for personal 
combat. But Gainey shrank from his more powerful as- 
sailant, and sought safety in flight. James pursued for a 
distance of half a mile. In the eagerness of the chase he 
did not perceive that he was alone and unsupported. It 
was enough that he was gaining upon his enemy, who was 
almost within reach of his sword, when the chase brought 
them suddenly upon a body of Tories who had raUied upon 
the road. There was not a moment to be lost. Hesita- 
tion would have been fatal. But our gallant Major was 
not to be easily intimidated. With great coolness and pre- 
sence of mind, waving hrs sword aloft, he cried out, " come 
on, boys ! here they are !" and rushed headlong upon the 
group of enemies, as if perfectly assured of support. The 
ruse was successful. The Tories broke once more, and 
sought safety from their individual enemy in the recesses 
of Pedee swamp. 

Marion did not suffer the courage of his men to cool. In 
twenty-four hours after this event, he was again in motion. 
Hearing of the proximity of another body of Tories, under 
Captain Barfield, he advanced against him with as much 
celerity and caution as before. But he found Barfield 
Btrongly posted, in greater force than he expected ; warnef 



I'M 1. I r K I' iM A l{ I N 

M' liis approach and wailiiii^ lor him. It was no [):irt of 
Marion's praclico to I'xposc his nini uniu'cessarily. Ho 
hml loo lew, to risk llic loss of aiiv precious lives, \vhcr(> IIiIm 
was to he avoideil. Ih^ ih'l<'riuineil upon a (hlU'rent luodi' 
ol' niana};ini;- his enemy, and resoiled to u i;trata<;-em, which, 
suhs(Miuenlly, lie iVetpienlly made use of. I'uHini; a stdect 
imrty of his men in amhush n(>ar llu» Dlue Savannah, he 
feigned retreat with anot!u>r, and thus hej^uiU'd his enemy 
from his stron<;- position. 'VUc result accorded with his 
wishes. I^arliidd folh)wed and lell into the snare. The 
defeat was ecjually compU'te with that of CJaiiuy. 

TIk^ conduct and skill, in mana<;in!; his raw niilitia-men, 
wluch tlu>se two acluevements displayed, naturally inspired 
his foUowers Avith C(Mdidence in themselves and their leader 
They prochuH«d a corr(>sj)()nding eil'ect upon the people of 
the country, and wcM'e productive of lu) small annoyance to 
the Tories, who wei-e thus suddenly reminded that tluM'e 
miL';ht he r(>trihulion for crinu' even when sheltered under 
the dragon folds of luigland. Another henelit from these 
occurrence's was in hotter providing the hrigade with some 
of the proptM" weapons and unmitions of war. 

Among the recent ca[)lures of Marion were two old i\cU\ 
pieces. Keturning to Port's Ferry, he threw up a r<>douht 
on the ejist hank of the Pedee, upon which he mounted 
them, lie seldom trouhled himself with such heavy hag- 
gage, and ])ii)hahly disposed of them in this way, quite as 
much to discnu'umher liimselfof them, as with any such 
motive, as was alU^geil, wIumi pkicing them in hattery, of 
ovi>rawing the Tories hy tlu'lr presence. Movements of so 
ra[)id a kinil, and so freipuMitly made as liis, re(piiring eepial 
dispatch and sin-recy, forhade the use of artillery; and he 
very well knew, that, to employ men for the maintenance 
of isolated posts — such posts as he could estahlish, — would 



L J F K O r M A I< I O N . 12f 

nave no olhor cflccl than to expose Ijih [jripjadf; to tho chan 
ces of being cut up in detail 
' On tfie 17th August, tfie day foJ lowing the (\<Sc;d of 
(jutes, — of wliieli (jvent he was a;s yet wholly ignoranl-he 
(li.sj)atehe(i (Jol. Peter llony, with orders to take eornrnand 
of four companies, Bonneau's, Mitchell's, iienson's and J^e- 
nud's, near Georgetown, on the Santee ; to d(:stroy all the 
hoats and canoes ori th(i river from the lower f<'.rry to Le- 
nud's — to bn-ak up and stop all communications witf 
(Charleston, and to procun?, if j:>ossible, supplies of gunpow- 
dt'j-y flints and hulhtts. "Twenty-five w(Mg[itof gunpowder, 
ball or buf kshot," is the language of his orders. This will 
show how scanty were the supplies which were to b(; pro- 
cured of the material upon which everything d(^p( nded. 
Marion frequently went into action with less than three 
rounds to a man — half of his men were sometimes lookers 
on because of the lack of arms and ammunition — waiting to 
8ee the fall of friends or enemies, in ordt^r to obtain the ne- 
cessary means of taking part in the affair. Jjuck-shot r;asily 
satisfied soldiers, who not unfrequently advanced to thf 
combat with nothing }>ut swan-shot in their fowling-pieces. 
While Horry proceeded towards Gf^orgetown, Marion 
ni;ire!j<',d tf> the uppr^r Santee. On this march he was 
advised of the defeat of Gates ; hut, fftaring its efPct upon 
his men, v/ithout communicating it, he proc(ieded imme- 
diately toward Nelson's Ferry. This was a well known 
pass on the great route, the *' v/ar-path",from Chaileston 
to Camden. Here his scouts advised him of the approach 
of a strong British guard, with a large body of prisoners 
tak(;n from Gates, 'i'he guards had stopped at a house on 
the east side of the river. Informed of all nr;cessary [Kjr- 
liculars, Marion, a little before daylight, detached Col. 
Hugh Horry, with sixteen m^'n, to gain possession of the 
roiid, at the ])i<ss of Hors<' Crefk, in the swamp, v.lille ih" 



126 LIFEOF MARION. 

main body under himself was to attack the enemy's rear 
The attempt was made at dawn, and was perfectly suc- 
cessful. A letter from Marion himself, to Col. P. Horry 
thus details the event : — " On the 20th inst. I attacked a 
guard of the 63d and Prince of Wales' Regiment, with a 
number of Tories, at the Great Savannah, near Nelson's 
Ferry ; killed and took twenty -two regulars, and two 
Tories prisoners, and retook one hundred and fifty Conti- 
nentals of the Maryland line, one wagon and a drum ; one 
captain and a subaltern were also captured. Our loss is 
one killed, and Captain Benson is slightly wounded on the 
head." 

It will scarcely be believed that, of this hundred and fifty 
Continentals, but three men consented to join the ranks of 
their liberator. It may be that they were somewhat loth 
to be led, even though it were to victory, by the man 
whose ludicrous equipments and followers, but a few 
weeks before, had only provoked their merriment. The 
reason given for their refusal, however, was not deficiejd 
5^ force. " They considered the cause of the country to 
be hopeless. They were risking life without an adequate 
-object. " The defeat of Gates, and his bad generalship, 
which they had so recently witnessed, were, perhaps, 
quite sufficient reasons to justify their misgivings. 

This disastrous event did not produce like despondency 
in our partisan or his followers, though it furnished reasons 
for the greatest circumspection. At this moment Marion's 
was the only body of American troops in the State, openly 
opposed to the triumphant progress of the British. The 
Continentals were dispersed or captured ; the Virginia and 
North Carolina militia scattered to the four winds ; Sum- 
ter's legion cut up by Tarleton, and he himself a fugitive, 
fearless and active still, but as yet seeking, rather than 
commanding. H force. Though small and seemingly iu>ig- 



L I 1 E OF M AUl <) N 127 

ai icant, the force of Marion had shown what might be 
J me, with the spirit and the personnel of the country, 
uj-Mler competent leaders. The cruelties of the British, 
who subjected the vanquished to the worst treatment of 
wa:r, helped his endeavor,*. Shortly after the victory over 
Gatt^i, Lord Cornwallis addressed an order to the British 
commandants at the several posts throughout the country, 
of wivch the following are extracts : 

" I have given orders that ail of the inhabitants of this 
provioi'e who Vave subscribed, and have taken part in this 
revolt, .should be punished with the greatest rigor ; and 
also th )tse who will not turn out, that they may be impri- 
soned &nd their whole property taken from them or de- 
stroyec'^ .... I have ordered in the most positive 
manne?f that every militia man, who has borne arms with 
us, and afterwards joined the enemy, shall be immediately 
hanged "' 

This gentleman has been called, by some of the Ameri- 
can writers, the " amiable Cornwallis." It is rather diffi^ 
cult to say for which of his qualities this dulcet epithet 
was bestowed. The preceding may well justify us in the 
doubt we venture to express, whether it was not given as 
much in mockery as compliment. But, lest his commands 
should not be understood, as not sufficiently explicit, his 
Lordship proceeded to furnish examples oi" his meaning, 
which left his desires beyond reasonable question. Imme- 
diately after his return to Camden, he stained the laurels ^' 
of his recent victory, . and celebrated his triumph over 
Gates, hj hanging some twelve or fifteen wretched prison- 
ers, old men and boys, who were only suspected of trea- 
chery to the royal cause. Similar barbarities were prac-^ 
tised by subordinate officers, emulative of this example c/ 
their superior, or in obedifcixe to his orders. But, fcrla- 
nately for the country, even this brutality, which wiij 



128 LIFE OF MARION. 

intended to alarm the fears of the people, and do that 
which the arts of their conqueror had failed to effect, was 
not productive of the desired results. It drove the indig 
nant into the field — it shamed the unwilling into decision — 
it spurred on the inert and inactive to exertion, and armed 
the doubtful and the timid with resolution. It sent hun- 
dreds, whom nothing had moved before, into the ranks of 
Marion and Sumter. The moment of defeat and greatest 
despondency — the dark before the dawn — was that when 
the people of the country were preparing to display the 
most animating signs of life. The very fact that the force 
of Marion was so insignificant, was something in favor of 
that courage and patriotism, that confidence in his own 
resources and his men, which, defying all the inequalities' 
of force, could move him to traverse the very paths of the 
conqueror, and pluck his prisoners from his very grasp. 
The audacity and skill of Marion, exhibited in numerous 
small achievements of w^hich history furnishes no particu- 
lars, extorted a reluctant confession from the enemy, whose 
unwilling language will suffice for our own. Tarleton 
writes : '^ Mr, Marion,* by his zeal and abilities, showed 
himself capable of the trust committed to his charge. He 
collected his adherents at the shortest notice, and, after 
making excursions into the friendly districts, or threaten- 
ing the communications, to avoid pursuit he disbanded his 
followers. The alarms occasioned by these insurrections, 
frequently retarded supplies on their v/ay to the army ; 

* The British officers betrayed a singular reluctance to ac- 
cord to the Americans their military titles. The reader will 
recollect the letter of General Gage to Mr. Y/ashington, which 
the latter very properly refused to receive. The very attempt 
here made to sneer away the official, adds to the personal im- 
portance of the individual ; and we yield to plain Mr. Marion, 
with his rae-ged followers, who, untitled, could give such annoy- 
ance to His Majesty's officers, a degree of respect which bis 
liie might not otherwise have commanded 



LIFE OF MARION. 129 

and a late report of Marion's strength delayed the junction 
of the recruits who had arrived from New York for the 
corps in the country." The 64th Regiment of Infantry- 
was ordered to Nelson's Ferry from Charleston, and direc- 
tions were given to Lieut. Col. Taileton to pass the 
VVateree to awe the insurgents.* Cornwallis writes to 
Tarleton : " I most sincerely hope that you will get 
at Mr. Marion." In short, to use the further language of 
the British Colonel, Marion completely overran the lower 
districts. He cut off supplies from the army, broke up 
the Tories, destroyed recruiting parties, intercepted and 
interrupted communications, and, darting to and fro between 
the British posts, which he had not the power to overcome 
showed that nothing but that power was necessary to enable 
him to challenge with them the possession of the soil. That 
he should disband his men at one moment, and be able by a 
word to bring them together when they were again 
wanted, proves a singular alliance between the chieftain 
and his followers, which is characteristic only of the most 
romantic history. It shows a power, on the part of the 
fornicf, such as we ascribe to the winding of the magic 
horn of Astolfo, which few commanders of militia have 
ever had the skill to produce. Evidently, the personal and 
patriotic influences were very equally strong, to occiision 
such prompt fidelity, in his case, on the part -U vww fol- 
lowers. 

* Tarleton's Campaigns, 4to ed pp. i, .. 



CHAPTER TX , 

Marion retreats before a superior force — Defeats the Tories 
at Black MingD — Surprises and disperses the force of Col. 
Tynis at Tarcote — Is pursued by Tarleton. 

The solicitude manifested by the British commander in 
the South to get Marion from his path, soon set the legion 
of Tarleton, and a strong force under Major Wemyss, in 
motion for his retreats. The progress of Tarleton was 
somewhat delayed, and his co-operation with Wemyss 
prevented. The latter pushed his advance with equal 
spirit ,and address. Marion had with him but one hundred 
and fifty men, when he heard of the approach of his ene- 
mies. His force, it must be remembered, was of a peculiar 
kind, and was constantly fluctuating. His men had cares 
other than those of their country's liberties. Young and 
tender families were to be provided for and guarded in the 
thickets where they found shelter. These were often 
threatened in the absence of their protectors by marauding 
bands of Tories, who watched the moment of the departure 
of the Whigs, to rise upon the weak, and rob and harass the 
unprotected. The citizen soldiery were thus doubly em- 
ployed, and had cares to endure, and duties to perform 
from which regular troops are usually exempt, and for 
which regular officers seldom make allowance. The good 
judgment of Marion, taking these necessities into conside- 
lati^n, exercised tlat patience wi h the militia which se- 



LIFE OF MARION. 131 

cured their fidelity. When he found this or that body of 
men anxious about their famihes, he yielded most generally 
without reluctance to their .wishes. This indulgence had 
its effects. Their return was certain. They seldom lin- 
gered beyond the time at which they had pledged themselves 
to reappear. 

It was in consequence of this indulgence that his force 
was thus reduced when the British approach was known. 
Wemyss was in command of the 63d regiment. He was 
accompanied by a large body of Tories under Major Harri- 
son. They moved with caution and speed, but the Ameri- 
can General was on the alert. He dispatched Major 
James with a select body of volunteers to reconnoitre. His 
various outposts were called in, and with his whole pre- 
sent strength, thus united, Marion followed on the footsteps 
of James, prepared, if the chances promised him success, for 
doing battle with his enemy. 

Major James, naeanwhile, who was equally bold and skil- 
ful, pressed forward fearlessly till he became aware of the 
proximity of the British. He was resolved to make^sure 
of his intelligence. He placed himself in a thicket on their 
line of march, and by a bright moon, was readily enabled to 
form a very correct notion of their character and numbers. 
But as the rear-guard passed by, his courageous spirit 
proinpted further performances. He was not content to 
carry to his general no other proofs of his vigilance but the 
tidings which he had obtained. His perfect: knowledge of 
the ground, his confidence in the excellent character of his 
men, and the speed of their horses, moved him to greater 
daiing ; and, bursting from his hiding-place, with a terrible 
shout, he swooped down with his small party upon the 
startled stragglers in the rear of the Tory march, carryinof off 
his prisoners m the twinkling of an eye, without stopping 
to slay, and without suffering the loss of a man. Before 



132 LIFE OF MARION. 

the enemy could rally, and turn upon his path, the tread 
of the partisan's horse no. longer sounded in his ears. 

The intelligence which James bore to his commander was 
scarcely so encouraging. He reported the British regulars 
to be double their own force in number, while the Tor-es in 
the rear were alone estimated at five hundred men. Re- 
treat, perhans dispersion, was now inevitable. This was 
the sort of game, which, in his feebleness, and under the 
pressure of a very superior foe, our partisan was compelled 
to play. It was sometimes a humiliating one, and always 
attended with some discouragements. The evil effects, 
however, were only temporary. His men never retired be- 
yond his reach. They came Pgain at a call, refreshed by 
the respite, and assured by the conviction that their com- 
mander was quite as careful of their lives as themselves 
Such a game was not without its interest, and its peculiar- 
ities were such as to give animation to the valor which it 
exercised. In these pecuharities of his warfare, lies that 
secret charm which has made tradition, in the southej-n 
country, linger so long and so fondly upon the name of 
Marion. 

Judge James gives us, in few words, a lively idea of the 
consultation which followed the return and the report of 
Major James. " About an hour before day, Marion met 
the Major half a mile from his plantation. The officers 
immediately dismounted and retired to consult ; the men 
«at on their horses in a state of anxious suspense . The con- 
ference was long and animated. At the end of it, an order 
was given to direct the march back to Lynch's Creek (the 
route to North Carolina), and no sooner was it given thais 
a bitter groan might have been heard along the whole line 
A bitter cup had now been mingled for the people of 
Williamsburg and Pedee, and they were doomed to drain i 
to the dregs, but in the end it proved a salutary medicine ' 



LIFE OF MARION. 133 

The evil here deplored was the temporary^ abandonment, 
for the first time, of this particular section of country. 
Hitherto, the enemy had never appeared in their neighbor- 
hood with such a force as enabled them to overrun it with- 
out fear of opposition. Now, they were destined to suffer 
from those tender mercies of British and Tories, which had 
written their chronicles in Wood and flame, wherever their 
footsteps had gone before. Bitter, indeed, was the medi- 
cine, to whom its taste was new. But, as writes the vene- 
rable biographer, it was salutary in the end. It strength- 
ened their souls for the future trial. It made them more 
resolute in the play. With their own houses in smoking 
ruins, and their own wives and children homeless and wan- 
derino-, they could better feel what was due to the sufferings 
of their common country. 

It was at sunset the next evening that Marion commenc- 
ed his flight to North Carolina. He kept with him only 
sixty men. The rest dropped ofF by degrees as they ap* 
proached their several hiding-places, lying snug, until they 
again heard the signal of their commander, — fi-equently 
nothing but a whisper, — which once more brought them 
forth, to turn the pursuit upon their enemies and avenge 
themselves by sudden onslaught for the ruin of their home- 
steads. On this retreat, Marion took with him the two 
field-pieces which we found him placing in battery on-the 
Pedee a short time before. His desire to save these pie- 
ces was due rather to the supposed effect which their pos- 
session had upon the minds of the Tories, than because of 
any real intrinsic use which they possessed in his hands 
They encumbered his flight, however, and. he disposed of 
them, finally, without compunction. Wheeling them into- 
a swamp he left them, where, possibly, they remain to this 
day, the object of occasional start and wonderment to the 
stalking deer-hunter. This, say^ Judge James, " was i\w 



134 LIFE 0** MARION 

last instance of military parade evinced by the Gene* 
ral." Marching day and night he arrived at Amy's Mill, 
on Drowning Creek. From this place, he sent forth his 
parties, back to South Carohna, to gain intelligence and 
rouse the militia. He himself continued his march. He 
pitched his camp finally, on the east side of the White 
Marsh, near the head of the Waccamaw. There may have 
been a motive, other than the desire for safety, which led 
Marion to choose and retain this position. The borders of 
North Carolina swarmed with Tories, Chiefly descendants 
of the Scotch, who constituted, on frequent subsequent oc 
oasions, the perplexing enemies with whom our partisan 
had to contend. It is not improbable, though history does 
not declare the fact, that he chose the present occasion for 
overawing the scattered parties, who were always stretch- 
ing with lawless footstejDS from Cape Fear to the Great 
Pedee. It was while he lay at this place, that the venera- 
ble Judge James, then a boy-,of sixteen, had the honor, for 
the first time, to dine with Marion. It was in the absence 
of Major James, the father of the boy, w^ho was one of the 
volunteers sent back to South Carolina. The artless de- 
scription which the Judge has given us of this event, so 
characteristic of Marion, and of the necessities to which he 
was habitually compelled to submit, will better please than 
a much more elaborate narrative. 

" The dinner was set before the company by the Gene- 
ral's servant, Oscar, partly on a pine log and partly on the 
ground. It consisted of lean beef, without salt, and sweet 
potatoes. The author had left a small pot of boiled 
hominy in his oamp, and requested leave of his host to 
send for it, and- the proposal was gladly acquiesced in 
The hominy had salt in it, and proved, though eaten out 
of the pot, a most acceptable repast. The General said 
but little, and that was chiefly what a son would be most 



LIFE OF MARION. 135 

likely to be gratified by, in the praise of his father. We 
had nothing to drink but bad water ; and all the company 
appeared to be rather grave." 

That the party should be rather grave, flying from their 
homes and a superior foe, eating unsalted pottage, and 
drinking bad water, was, perhaps, natural enough. That 
this gravity should appear doubly impressive to a lad of 
sixteen, in a presence which he was taught to venerate, 
was still more likely to be the case. But Marion, though 
a cheerful man, wore ordinarily a grave, sedate expression 
of countenance. Never darkened by gloom, it was seldom 
usurped by mere merriment. He had no uproarious hu- 
mor. His tastes were delicate, his habits gentle, his sensi- 
bilities warm and watchful. Atmost a quiet smile lighted up 
his features, and he could deal in little gushes of humor, 
of which there was a precious fountain at the bottom of 
his heart. That he was capable of a sharp sarcasm, 
was also generally understood among his friends. Horry 
remarks, that few men ever excelled him at retort. But 
he was singularly considerate of the sensibilities of others, 
and had his temper under rare command. His powers of 
forbearance were remarkable. His demeanor, whether in 
triumph or despondency, wai' equally quiet and subdued 
He yielded to few excitements, was seldom elevated by 
successes to imprudence — as seldom depressed by disappoint- 
ments to desponde:3cy. The equable tone of his mind 
reminds us a2;ain of Washino;ton. 

It was while Marion remained at White Marsh, that 
one of his captains, Gavin Witherspoon, whom he had 
sent out-with four men, achieved one of those clever per- 
formances, that so frequently distinguished the men of Ma- 
ricn. He had taken refuge in Pedee Swan;ip from the pur- 
suit of the enemy, and, while hiding, discovered one of the 
camps of the Tories who had been in pursuit of hii». 



136 LIFE OF MARICK. 

Witherspoon proposed to his four comrades to watch th^ 
enemy's camp, until the Tories were asleep. But his men 
timidly shrank from the performance, expressing their 
dread of superior numbers. Witherspoon undertook the 
adventure himself. Creeping up to the encampment, he 
found that they slept at the butt of a pine tree, which had 
been torn up by the roots. Their guns were piled against 
one of its branches at a little distance from them. These 
he first determined to secure, and, still creeping, with the 
skill and caution of an experienced scout, he succeeded in 
his object. The guns once in his possession, he aroused 
the Tories by commanding their surrender. They were 
seven in number, unarmed, and knew nothing of the force 
of the assailant. His own more timid followers drew 
near in sufficient time to assist in securing the prisoners. 
There was another Witherspoon with Marion, John, a 
brother of Gavin, and like him distinguished for great 
coolness, strength, and courage. Both of the brothers de- 
lighted in such adventures, and were always ready to engage 
in them, — the rashness of the attempt giving a sort of 
relish to the danger, which always sweetened it to the 
taste of our partisans. 

The return of the various scouting parties which Ma- 
rion sent out, soon set his little brigade in motion. The 
intelligence which they brought was well calculated to 
sting his soldiers, as well as himself, into immediate acti- 
vity. The medicine which the British had administered to 
the country they abandoned, had not been suffered to lose 
any of its bitterness. As had been feared, the Tories had 
laid waste the farms and plantations. The region through 
which Major Wemyss had passed, for seventy miles in 
length and fifteen in breadth, displayed one broad face of 
desolation. It had been swept by sword and fire. Havoc 
had exercised its most ingenious powers of destructiou 



L I F E F M A R I N . l5 

On most of the plantations the houses wore given to tL' i 
flames, the inhabitants plundered of all their possessions, 
and the stock, especially the sheep, wantonly shot or 
bayoneted. Wemyss seems to have been particularly hos- 
tile to looms and sheep, simply because they supplied the 
inhabitants with clothing. He seldom suffered the furni- 
ture to be withdrawn from a dwelhng v/hich he had doom- 
ed to be destroyed : Presbyterian churches he burnt reh • 
giously, as so many " sedition-shops." It was fortunate 
for the wretched country, thus ravaged, that the corn was 
not generally housed ; it was only in part destroyed. Had 
the Tories played the same game in the cornfields of the 
patriots, that Grant's men had done in those of the Chero- 
kees, as recorded in an early page of this volume,* the de- 
vastation would have been complete. They had not limit- 
ed their proceedings to these minor crimes. They had 
added human butchery and hanging to those other offences 
for which vengeance was in store. The wife and children 
of one Adam Cusack, threw themselves across the path of 
Wemyss to obtain the pardon of the husband and the father. 
The crime of Cusack was in having taken arms against the 
enemy. Their prayers were in vain. But for the inter- 
ference of his own officers, the ruthless Briton would have 
ridden over the kneeling innocents. This was not the only 
savage murder of the same description which this wretched 
people had to endure. But such atrocities were sharp 
medicines, benefits in disguise, good against cowardice, 
selfishness, double-dealing, and deficient patriotism. They 
worked famously upon the natives, while they proved the 
invader to be as little capable of good policy, as of ordi- 
nary humanity. They roused the spirit of the militia, 
whet their anger and their swords together, and, by ih9 

* See ant«, p. 50-52. 



138 LIFEOF MARION, 

time tfiat Marion reappeared, they were ready for tneii 
General. He asked for nothing more. He re-entered 
South Carolina by a forced march Travelling night and 
day, he hurried through the Tory settlements on Little 
Pedee, a space of sixty miles on the second day of his 
journey. At Ljmch's Creek he was joined by Captains 
James and Mouzon, with a considerable body of men. He 
was prepared to give them instant employment. Major 
Wemy.'is had retired to Georgetown, but Marion was ad- 
vised of a large body of Tories at Black Mingo, fifteen miles 
below, under the command of Capt. John Coming Ball. 
Marion was in expectation, every moment, of additional 
troops, but he determined not to wait for them. He found 
his men in the proper mood for fight, and at such times 
small inequalities of force are not to be regarded. He 
resolved to give the humor vent, and at once commenced 
his march for the enemy's encampment. He found the 
Tories strongly posted at Shepherd's Ferry, on the south 
side of the Black Mingo, on a deep navigable stream, the 
passage of which they commanded. There was but one 
other approach to them, about a mile above their position, 
through a boggy causeway, and over a bridge of planks. 
It was nearly midnight when Marion's troops reached this 
jjass. While the horses were crossing the bridge, an 
ahirm-gun was heard from the Tory camp. Celerity now 
became as necessary to success as caution, and Marion 
ordered his men to follow him at full gallop. When they 
reached the main road, about three hundred yards from the 
enemy, the whole force, with the exception of a small 
'body acting as cavalry, dismounted. A body of pickeu 
men, under Captain Waties, was ordered down the road to 
attack Bollard's house, where the Tories had been posted 
Two (companies, under Col. Hugh Horry, were sent to the 
right, and the cavalry to the left, to support the attack. 



LIFE OF M (IRION. 139 

Clarion himself bringing up the reserve. It so happened, 
however, that the Tories had taken the ala rm, and having 
withdraw^n from the house, had chosen a si fong position in 
an old field near it. Here they encountered Horry's com- 
mand, on the advance, w^ith a fire equally severe and unex- 
pected. The effect was that of a surprise upon the assail- 
ants. Horry's troops fell back in confusion, but were 
promptly rallied and brought to the charge. The battle 
was obstinate and bloody, but the appearance of the corps 
under Waties, suddenly, in the rear of the Tories, soon 
brought it to a close. Findino: themselves between two 
fires, the enemy gave way in ■ all directions, and fled for 
refuge to the neighboring swamp of Black Mingo. So 
warmly contested was thig affair, that, though soon over, 
fully one third of the men brought into the field were put 
hors de combat. / The loss of Marion was proportionably 
very considerable. Captain Logan was among his slain , 
and Captain jNIouzon and Lieut. Scott so severely wounded 
as to be unfit for future service. The force of the Tories 
was almost twice as great as that of the Whigs. They 
lost their commander, and left nearly half their number, 
killed and wounded, on the ground. Bat for the alarm 
given by the tread of Marion's horses, while crossing the 
neighboring bridge, the Tories would most probably have 
been surprised. At any rate, the affair would have been 
settled without subjecting the brigade to the severe loss 
which it sustained. After this event Marion adopted the 
precaution, whenever about to cross a bridge by night, 
with an enemy near, to cover the planks with the blankets 
of his men. But he generally preferred fords, where they 
could possibly be had, to bridges. 

This victory was very complete. Many of the Toriey 
came in, and joined the ranks of the conqueror. Those 
who did not, were quite too much confounded to show 



40 L I F E F M A R I O N . 

much impatience in taking up arms against him. His um 
form successes, whenever he struck, had already strong]^ 
impressed the i aaginations of the people His name was 
already the rallying word throughout the country To join 
Marion, to be one of Marion's men, was the duty which 
the grandsire imposed upon the lad, and to the perform- 
ance of which, throwing aside his crutch, he led the way. 
We have already shown why the force of Marion was 
so liable to fluctuation. The necessity of providing for, 
and protecting destitute families, starving wives and naked 
children, was more imperative than that of a remote and 
fancied liberty. These cases attended to, the militia came 
forth, struck a few blows, and once more returned to their 
destitute dependants. The victory over the Tories of Black 
Mingo, was, from this cause, followed by a more than 
usually prolonged inactivity of our partisan. His men 
demanded a respite to go and see their families. He con- 
sented, with some reluctance, for the business of iho 
campaign was only beginning to open itself before him. 
They promised him, as usual, to return in season ; but re- 
mained so long absent, that, for the first time, he now began 
to doubt and despair of them. This feeling was not natu- 
ral with him. It was probably only due now to some de 
rangernent of his own health, some anxiety to achieve 
objects w^hich presented themselves prominently to his 
mind. He had probably heard of the advance of General 
Greene, who, having succeeded to 'Gates, was pressing for- 
ward with fresh recruits, and the remnant of the fugitives 
who survived, in freedom, the fatal battle of Camden. A 
laudable anxiety to be active at such a time, to show to the 
approaching Continentals that there was a spirit in the 
State w^hich they came to succor, yf which the most 
happy auguries might be entertained, prompted his morbid 
Impat^^'nce at t»ie long delay of his absentees. There wer« 



LIFE OF MARION. 141 

other causes which led hiin to .^eel this delay more seriously 
now than at other times. The Tories were again gathering 
in force around him. Under these circumstances, and 
with these feelings, he consulted with his officers whether 
they should not leave the State and join the approaching 
army of Greene. Hugh Horry counselled him strenuously 
against it. His counsel was seconded by the rest. They 
prevailed with him. It was fortunate that they did so ; 
for the great efficiency of Marion was in the independence 
of his command. While the matter was yet in debate, the 
militia began to re-appear. He had not sufficiently allowed 
for their exigencies, for the scattered homes and hiding- 
places of famishing hundreds, living on precarious supplies, 
in swamp and thicket. How could he reproach them — 
fighting as they were for love of country only, and under 
such privations— that country yielding them nothing, no 
money, no clothes, no provisions, — for they were nothing 
but militia. They were not enrolled on the Continental 
pay list. That they should seek the field at all, thus cir- 
cumstanced, will be ever a wonder to that class of philo- 
sophers who found their systems upon the simple doctrine 
of human selfishness. 

True to their chief, he rejoiced once more in their fidelity ; 
and, marching into Williamsburg, he continued to increase 
his numbers with his advance. His present object was the 
chastisement of Col. Harrison, who was in force upon 
Lynch's Creek ; but his progress in this direction was sud- 
denly arrested by his scouts, who brought him tidings of 
large gatherings of Tories in and about Salem and the 
fork of Black River. In this quarter, onG Colonel Tynes 
had made his appearance, and had summoned the people 
generally, as good subjects of his majesty, to take the field 
against their countrymen. It was necessary to check this 
rising, and to scatter it before it gained too much head ; to 



142 LIFEOF MARION. 

lessen tiie influence of Tynes and his party, over tho^e who 
were doubtful, and afford the friends of the patriots an op- 
portunity to come out on the proper side. There were 
other inducements to the movement. Col. Tynes had 
brought v/ith him from Charleston, large supplies of the ma« 
terials of v/ar and comfort — commodities of which the poor 
patriots stood grievously in need. They hungered at the 
tidings brought by the scouts, of new English muskets and 
bayonots, broad-sv/ords and pistols, saddles and bridles, 
powder and ball, which the provident Colonel had procured 
from Charleston for fitting out the new levies. To strike 
at this gathering, prevent these new levies, and procure 
the supplies which were designed for them, were control- 
ling objects to which all others were made to yield. The 
half naked troops of the brigade found new motives to valor 
in the good things which the adventure promised. Tynes 
lay at Tarcote, in the forks of Black River, and, as Marion 
was advised^ without exercising much military watchful- 
ness. The head of his column was instantly turned in this 
direction. Crossing the lower ford of the northern branch 
of Black River, at Nelson's plantation, he came upon the 
camp of Tynes at midnight. A hurried, but satisfactory 
survey, revealed the position of the enemy. No preparation 
had been made for safety, no precautions taken against 
attack. Some of the Tories slept, others feasted, and others 
were at cards — none watched. ^Marion made his arrange- 
ments for the attack without obstacle or interruption. The 
surprise was complete, — the panic universal. A few were 
slain, some with the cards in their hands. Tynes, with two 
of his officers, and many of his men, were made prisoners, 
but the greater number fled. Few w^ere slain, as scarcely 
any resistance was offered, and Tarcote Swamp was fortu- 
nately nigh to receive and shelter the fugitives, many of 
whom shortly after made their appearance and took tb#»ir 



LIFEOFMARIO-V, 143 

places in the ranks cf the conqueror. Marion lost not a 
man. The anticipaticuis of his people were gratiiied with 
the acquisition of no small store of those supplies, arms and 
ammunition, of which they had previously stood in so much 
need. 

These spirited achievements, however small, were so 
cleverly executed, so unexpectedly, and with such uniform 
success, as to occasion a lively sensation through the coun- 
try. Hope everywhere began to warm the patriots of the 
State, bringing courage along with it. The effect upon the 
enemy, of an opposite temper and tendency, was quite as 
lively. Cornwallis, whom we have already seen urging 
Tarleton to the pursuit of our partisan, frankly acknow- 
ledged his great merits, and was heard to say that '^ he 
would give a good deal to have him taken."* His lan- 
guage to Sir Henry Clinton, in a letter dated from his camp 
at Winnsborough, December 3d, 1780, of a different tone, 
indeed, was of like lenor. It spoke for the wonderful pro- 
Qjress and influence of our here — a progress and influence 
not to be understood by the reader, from the meagre ac- 
count which we are enabled to give of the battles, skir- 
mishes and happy stratagems, in which his men were con- 
stantly engaged. Cornwallis writes, — " Col. Marion had 
so wrought on the minds of the people, partly by the terror 
of his threats and cruelty of his punishments, and partly by 
the promise of plunder, that there was scarcely an inhabit^ 
ant between the Santee and Pedee, that was not in arms 
against us. Some parties had even crossed the Santee, ana 
canied terror to the gates of Charleston.'^'' 

Where his lordship speaks of the successes of Marion 
his great influence over the people, and the audacity with 
which they urged their progress through all parts of that 
section of country, which had been yiek'ad to his control by 

* Moultrie's Memoirs. 



144 LIFE OF MARION 

Governor Rutledge, his statement is true to the very letter. 
It sums up very happily the results of his activity and con- 
duct. " But, when his lordship alleges cruelty and threats, 
and the hopes of plunder, as the means by which these 
results were produced, we meet his assertion with very flat 
denial. All the testimonies of the time, but his own, show 
that, in this respect, he wandered very widely from the 
truth. No single specification of cruelty was ever alleged 
against the fair fame of Francis Marion. His reputation, as 
a humane soldier, is beyond reproach, and when questioned, 
always challenged and invited investigation. The charge 
made by Cornwallis was urged by Lt.-Col. Balfour, com 
mandant of Charleston, in a correspondence with General 
Moultrie. The latter answered it in a frank and confident 
manner, which showed what he thought of it. " I am 
sorry," he writes to Balfour, " to hear that General Marion 
<diould use his prisoners ill. It is contrary to his natural 
disposition : I know him to be generous and humane.''^* He 
adds elsewhere : " General Marion always gave orders to 
his men that there should be no waste of the inhabitants' 
property, and no plundering."! Marion had lived in the 
family of Moultrie,J had repeatedly served under him, and 
if any man knew thoroughly his true disposition, the hero 
of Fort Sullivan was certainly that m?n. But the testimo- 
ny of all v/ho knew him was to the same effect. Indeed, 
the gentleness of his nature made him a favorite wherever 
known. Touching the offers and hopes of plunder, which 
his men are said to have received, this scarcely requires 
any answer. We have seen, and shall see hereafter, the 
state of poverty and privation in which the brigade of 
Marion subsisted. A few little facts will better serve to 
show what their condition was. During the whole pe- 

* Memoirs, -vol. ii. p. 174. f Moultrie, vol. ii. p. 236. 
t MS. Memoirs of General Horry. 



L I r< E OP MARION. 145 

nod in which we have seen him engaged, and for some 
months later, Marion himself, winter and summer, had 
slept without the luxury of a blanket. He had but one, 
on taking command of the " Brigade," and this he lost by 
accident. Sleeping soundly, after one of his forced march- 
es, upon a bed of pine straw, it took fire, his blanket was 
destroyed, and he himself had an escape so narrow, that one 
half of the cap he wore was shrivelled up by the flames, 
ilis food was hominy or potatoes ; his drink vinegar and 
water, of which he was fond. He had neither tea nor 
coffee, and seldom tasted wine or spirits. And this mod ^-^ 
ration was shown at a time when he held in his possession 
a power from Governor Rutledge, to impress and appropri- 
ate whatever he thought necessary to his purposes.* The 
charge against him of cruelty and plunder is perfectly ab- 
surd, and rests on the vague assertions of an enemy, who 
specifies no offence and offers no sort of evidence. It was 
but natural that such charges should be made by an aston- 
ished and disappointed foe— natural that the conqueror 
should ascribe to any but the right cause the reluctance of 
a people to submit to a monstrous usurpation, and theii 
anxiety to avail themselves, by the presence of a favorite 
leader, of a principle and prospects to which their affections 
were really surrendered. Could the British commanders 
in America have really been brought to admit that the 
affections of the people were not with their sovereign, the 
war must have found a finish much sooner than it did. 
Their hopes were built upon this doubt ; and hence their 
anxiety to show the coercive measures of the chieftains by 
whom this control, adverse to their wishes, was maintained 
over the minds of the people. The great influence of Ma^ 
rion was due to other acts. It was by the power of love, 

• James' Memoir, p. 122 
10 



146 L I F E O F M A R ON. 

and not of terror, that he managed his followers. Tlie| 
loved him for himself, and loved his cause for their country 
His rare command of temper, his bland, affectionate man- 
ner, his calm superiority, and that contidence in his courage 
and conduct, as a leader, without which militiamen are 
never led to victory, — these were the sources of his influ- 
ence over them, and of their successes against the enemy. 
It was through these that he " carried terror to the very 
gates of Charleston." We shall see indeed, that, under 
Marion, the militia were never conducted to defeat. 

Whatever may have been the causes of his victories, 
first over the minds of his people, and next over their foes, 
the British found it necessary that his influence should be 
restrained, and his farther progress arrested. Cornwallisj 
as we have seen, was willing to " give a good deal to have 
him taken." Tarleton is affectionately invoked to this pleas- 
ant duty, by the sincere hope that he would " get at Mr 
Marion." This, however desirable, was no easy matter- 
Marion was a very " will o' the wisp" in military aflairs, 
almost as difficult to find, at times, by his own followers, 
as by the enemy. He was the true model of a partisan 
m a country, like ours, of swamp and thicket ; leading the 
pursuing foe, like Puck, " through bog and through briar," 
till he wearied out his patience, exhausted his resources, 
and finally laid him open for defeat. He seldom lingered 
long in any one spot, changing his ground frequently, with 
Indian policy ; his scouts, well chosen, were always on the 
alert ; and, by constant activity and enterprise, he not only 
bafl[led pursuit, but deprived retreat of its usual mortifica- 
tions. The employment which he thus gave his men, not 
only hardened them against every turn of fortune, but kept 
them always in good spirits. 

Tarleton rose from a sick bed to undertake his capture. 
He had been confined for some time in Charleston with 



L I F E F M A R I N . ' ' l^? 

fever. The first moment of convalescence was seized upon 
for carrying into effect the wishes of CornwalHs He con- 
certed his plans before he left the city. His legion, which 
was at Camden, were instructed to meet him, while with a 
troop of horse he set forward for some point upon the 
Wateree. From this point he was to descend the Wateree 
in quest of our partisan. His plan of pursuit, as furnished 
by his own pen, will be seen hereafter. Marion was not 
unadvised of his progress, but, either from the rapidity ot 
Tarleton's movements, or some error in the report of his 
scouts, he failed of success in the object which he aimed 
at. This was the capture of Tarleton, while, with his troop 
of horse, he was on his way to join the legion. With this 
object he pressed his march for Nelson's Ferry on the 
Santee, and placed his men in ambush in the river swamp. 
He arrived too late. Tarleton had already crossed fully two 
days before. Marion passed the river in pursuit, advanc- 
ing with some earnestness on the footsteps of his foe, still 
under the impression that Tarleton was only in command 
of the small troop with which he had marched from 
Charleston. But the British commander had already 
effected the junction with his legion, and was at hand in 
greater force than our partisan dreamed of. At night, hav- 
ing reached a strong position in the woods, Marion was 
taking his usual precautions for making his camp. He was 
suddenly struck with a great light, seemingly at the plan- 
tation of General Richardson. This awakened his anxie- 
ties, and led him at once to suspect the presence cf his en- 
emy in that quarter. The progress of the British was thus 
usually distinguished when they reached a settlement of the 
patriots. The suspicions of Marion were soon confirmed 
by the arrival of Colonel Richardson, from whom he learn- 
ed that Tarleton was really at the plantation, the fires of 
which he saw, in force with his whole legion, and two field 



i4t LI FE OF M A KION. 

pieces. The strength of the British was double his owti^ 
and, to increase his anxieties, it was discovered that one of 
his men, — probably one of the late converts, who had join- 
ed the ranks after the defeat of Tynes, — had deserted to 
the enemy. In command of a force so superior, and in 
possession of a guide well acquainted with the country, 
Tarleton was too strong to be withstood. The position of 
Marion was no longer safe. He at once fell back, and 
crossing in silence and darkness a dense and gloomy swamp 
of vast extent, called the " wood-yard," halted on Jack's 
creek, a distance of six miles from his late encampment. 
This post was temporarily a secure one. Tarleton, mean- 
while, was conducted faithfully by the deserter into the 
*' wood-yard," — but the bird had flown. He pressed tho 
pursuit the next day, with that hot haste by which he w^as 
quite as much distinguished as by his cruelties. But Ma- 
rion knew hi^ foe, and had already changed his ground. 
Pushing his way through a wild extent of country, full 
of bogs and swamps, he reached Benbow's Ferry, about 
ten miles above Kingstree, where, taking a strong position, 
he resolved to defend himself. The place was one with 
which himself and men were familiar. It was not only eli- 
gible in itself, commanding the passage of the river, but it 
was one in which defeat was not necessarily final. It had 
resources, and means of rally, which are always important 
considerations to a militia command. There were three 
difficult passes, through the swamp, in Marion's rear, a* 
each of which, if driven by the enemy, his men could make 
a stubborn fight. His position taken, he proceeded 
promptly to strengthen its natural defences by art. Trees 
were felled across the track, and the post so improved as 
to reconcile the inequalities of his own with the pursuing 
force of Tarleton, Had the latter made his appearance, as 
Marion fully hoped and expected, the fatal rifles of the 



» L I F E C P r.I A R I N . i ^ 

" Brigade" thus planted, would have very quickly .ijiptied 
his best saddles. But the ccmmander of the lej^ion grew 
weary of the chase, at the very moment when it halted to 
await him. Of the pursuit he has given us a somewhat vain- 
glorious description. He represents himself as having 
been nearly successful, by means of his great adroitness 
and the excellence of his strategem. He says — " According 
to the reports of the country, General Marion's numbers 
were hourly increasing, which induced Lt.-Col. Tarleton 
to move "^is corps, for a short time, in a very compact 
body, lest the Americans should gain any advantage over 
patrols or detachments. But as soon as he found that the 
account of numbers was exaggerated, and that the enemy 
declined an engagement, he divided his corps into several 
small parties, publishing intelligence that each was on 
patrol, and that the main body of the King's troops had 
countermarched to Camden. Notwithstanding the divi- 
sions scattered throughout the country, to impose upon the 
enemy, Lt.-Col. Tarleton took care that no detachment 
should be out of the reach of assistance ; and that the 
whole formed after dark every evening a solid and vigilant 
corps during the night. This stratagem had not been em- 
ployed more than three days, before General Marion was 
on the point of falling a sacrifice to it. He advanced on 
the 10th before day, with five hundred militia, to attack 
Lt.-Col. Tarleton (who had notice of his approach), and 
arrived within two miles of his post, when a person of the 
name of Richardson discovered to him his misconception 
of the British force." 

But, as we have seen, Marion's advance- upon Tarleton 
was only the continuation of the pursuit which he began 
under the impression that the latter was stiil forcing his 
way to Camden with the small force with which he had 
crossed the Santee. Of the descent of the lei^ion f^'-'^na aoove, 



lt*)0 M F E O F M A R I O N , • 

he knew nothing, and the three days' pursuit of Tarleion 
were wasted upon him. The caution of the British 
Colonel in all this time might have been spared. It influ- 
enced the coarse of Marion in no respect. We have seen 
that, when the latter discovered his enemy, it was before 
da}' had closed, and not just before 'day. We have also 
seen that Tarleton's own bonfires had already revealed the 
secret of his presence, in strength, to his wary antagonist. 
If Col. Richardson had never entered the camp of Marion, 
the blazing dwellings of the Richardson family would have 
led to such precautions, on the side of the partisan, as must 
have effectually batTled the objects of the British Colonel. 
This indulgence in the usual British passion for burning the 
homesteads of women and children, which Tarleton could 
not resist, even though his immediate aim required the 
utmost watchfulness and secrecy, at once revealed to 
Marion not only that his enemy was there, but that he was 
there, with a force, in the strength of which he had the 
utmost confidence. It is not to be supposed that a small 
detachment, a scouting party of horse, a troop sent out for 
intelligence, — such as the British Colonel represents his 
several parties to have been, when his force was broken up 
in detail, to beguile the partisan, — would be likely to com- 
mit such excesses as to draw the eye of the country sud- 
denly upon them, at a time, too, when a wary adversary 
was within two miles with a force of five hundred men. 

Tarleton proceeds : " A pursuit was immediately com- 
menced, and continued for seven hours, through swamps 
and defiles. Some prisoners fell into the possession of the 
legion dragoons, who gained ground very fast, and must 
soon have brought the enemy to action, when an express 
from Earl Cornwallis, who had followed the tracks of tha 
march, recalled Lt.-Col. Tarleton." 

Such is the British narrative. We have reason to think 



L I r E O F M A R I N . lb\ 

it taulty in several respects. We doubt that it was the 
express of Earl Cornwallis that arrested the pursuit of our 
Legionary Colonel. We are disposed to ascribe it to hii 
own weariness of the game. The dispatch of Cornwallis 
to which he refers, was dated at Winnsboro' on the 9th 
of the month. It was on the night of the 10th, as we see 
by Tarleton's own" statement, that he commenced the 
close and earnest pursuit of Marion. The distance from 
W^innsboro' to the ' wood yard,' even allowing that the 
nstincts and information of tl*3 express should bring him 
Jireclly upon the trail of the Legion, would have employed 
him fully two days to overcome. These two days would 
have brought him to the close of the twelfth, up to which 
period, had Tarleton continued the chase, he might have 
enjoyed the satisfaction of shaking hands with his antago- 
nist in his defences at Benbow's Ferry. There, at the first 
proper position in which he might, with any hopes of suc- 
cess, oppose his adversary, had Marion taken his stand 
There, having entrenched himself, he was busy in bring 
ing together his forces. " Had Tarleton," says Judge 
James, "proceeded with his jaded horses to Benbow's, he 
vouldhave exposed his force to such sharp shooting as he 
iad not yet experienced, and that in a place where he 
^ould not have acted with either his artillery or cavalry." 

But Tarleton had tired of the adventure. After a pur- 
suit of twenty-five miles, he found his progress arrested by 
a swamp, wide and deep, through which his eye could 
discern no beaten road. But this should have discouraged 
no resolute conrunander, having his eneniy before him. Ma- 
rion had already preceded him in the passage, and was then 
within ten miles, awaiting his approach. He could have 
reached him in three hours, and four might have sufficed 
for the march and conflict. The express of Cornwallisj 
might have yielded that time , since it was not on the ne 



2 5.2 L I F E F M A Pv I N . 

cessit}'' of the Earl that he had written. Tarleton kisinu 
ates that the sole desire of Marion was to save himself 
Now, one fact will sufnce to show the incorrectness of this 
notion. For a distance of twelve miles on his retreat, the 
course of the partisan jskirted the south branch of Black 
River. He could, al any time and in a few minutes, have 
plunged into it, and no regular body of cavalry could have 
followed him. Besides, so close, we are told, was the pur 
suit, that the dragoons were taking prisoners. The ene- 
my must have been overtaken, but for the express. Under 
such circumstances it seems strange that Tarleton should 
show such singular deference to the express as to forbear 
the blow, when his sabre was already uplifted, and one of 
his most troublesome enemies was actually beneath it. It 
is scarcely possible that, with his dragoons so close on the 
heels of the fugitives and informed by prisoners of the 
proximity of his foe, he should not have heard that he was 
finally posted and in waiting for him. We will suppose, 
however, that he did not. He turned the head of his col- 
umn at the very moment when his object was attainable. 
Popular tradition represents him as expressing himself dis- 
couraged at the sight of Ox swamp, and exclaiming, " Come, 
my boys ! let us go back. We will soon find the Game 

Cock (meaning Sumter), but as for this d d Swamp-fox^ 

the devil himself could not catch him." From this speech 
of Tarleton, we are given to understand that the two popu- 
lar names were derived, by which Sumter and Marion were 
ever after known by their followers. 

Tarleton gained nothing by the pursuit of his wily anta- 
gonist. Marion remained in perfect mastery over the whole 
territory which he had been wont to overrun, w^th a strength 
somewhat increased by the fact that he had succeed*^d in 
baffling and eluding the attempts of one who had hitherto 



L T F E F M A R I N , 1 53 

Deen successful in all his enterprises. Fi }in tliij 'd'oment 
the career of Tarleton ceased to be fortunate. His faiJure 
to capture Marion was the first in a long train of disappoint- 
ments and disasters, some of which were also attended by 
the most di«urraceful and humblina' defeats. 



CHAPTER K. 

War ion attempts Georgetown — Horry defeats Merritt — Melton 
defeated by Barfield — Gabriel Marion taken by the Tories and 
murdered — Marion retires to Snow's Island. 

Failing to overtake Marion in his retreat, and unwillino" 
to press upon him in his stronghold, Tarleton turned the 
heads of his columns in the search after the other famous 
partisan of Carolina, General Sumter. This gentleman, 
after the surprise and dispersion of his force, which had 
followed so closely the defeat of Gates, had fallen back, 
with the wreck of his command, to the neighborhood of 
the mountains. Bat,- no sooner was it understood that a 
second Continental army was on its march for Carolina, 
than he emerged from his retreat, and renewed his enter- 
prises with as much activity as ever. It was to direct his 
arms against this enemy, and to restrain his incursions, that 
Tarleton was recalled from the pursuit of Marion by Earl 
Cornwallis. 

The force under Sumter had increased to about five 
hundred men. when he approached, and took post within 
twenty-eight miles of the encampment of Cornwallis at 
Winnsboro'. This approach, particularly as Sumter, un- 
like Marion, was apt to linger some time in a favorite 
position, induced the British commander to attempt his sur- 
prise. Col . Wemyss was accordingly sent against him with 
a strong body of British infantry. But Wemyss was de- 
feated, severely wounded himself, and fell into the hands of 
the Americans. The failure of Wemyss, and the audacity 
of Sumter, provoked the anxiety and indignation of Corn 



IRA 

T, 1 F E O F M A II I N »'^'' 



wallis. Tarleton promptly seconded the wish., of h,s su 
perior, and rapidly advanced upon his adversary feamter 
hearing of hi." approach, and with a force very far superior 
to his own, commenced his retreat, and threw the Tygei 
River between himself and h'is P-ff • .f fP^ ^!'""7 
only of losing his prey, and not at all doubtful o h>s vic- 
tory, Tarleton continued the pursuit with about four hun- 
dred mounted men, leaving the main body of his infancy 
and artillery to follow. As soon as Sumter discovered thai 
I whole of the British army was not at his heels he dis- 
continued his flight, and waited f-, ^'---yf .*« ''"^ 
and farm of one Blackstock, oi. the banks of the Tjger. 
Here an action followed, in which the British were defeated 
Tarleton lost ninety-two slain and one hundred wounded. 
The Americans lost three men slain and as -ny — ^^ 
But anion;; the latter was their commander. Ihe wound 
of SumK.r was in the breast, and a very severe one, He 
was wrapped up in the raw hide of a buUock, suspended 
riwlen wo horses, and, guarded by a hundred faiUifu. 
ot:ers,was conveyed in safetytoNorthCarolina,w^^^^^ 
unhappily, he lay for some time totally incapacitated fiom 
artive Derformance. 

This event was preceded and followed by others quite as 
encouraging to the American cause. The battle of King s 
Mourahit'ook place on the 7th October, HSO .nwK.a. 
the British, under Major .'erguson, expeneneed a total dc 
feat- Ferguson being slain, and the killed, wounded and 
captured of his army, amounting to eleven hundred men. 
MLwhile, the example of Maricn and Suiter l^d arou. 
ed the partisan spirit in numerous other places ; and every 
dtLt section of the country soon produced its particula, 
f ad r, under whom the Whigs embodied ^^^^^ 
in, wherever an opportunity offered of cutting oif he Bri- 
tish and Tories in detail, and re'uing to places of safety 



l56 LIFE OF MARION. 

or dispersing in groups, on the approach of a superior force 
This species of warfare was, of all kinds, that which was 
most likely to try the patience, and baffle the progress, of 
the British commander. He could overrun the country, 
but he made no conquests. His great armies passed over 
the land unquestioned, but had no sooner withdrawn, thaa 
his posts were assailed, his detachments cut off, his sup- 
plies arrested, and the Tories once more overawed by their 
fierce and fearless neighbors. Marion's brigade, in parti- 
cular, constantly in motion, — moving by night as frequently 
as by day, singularly well informed by its scouts, and ap- 
pearing at the least expected moment, — was always ready 
to prevent the gathering, into force and strength, of the 
loyalists. And this activity was shown, and this warfare 
waged, at a time, when, not only was the State without an 
army, without any distinct embodiment of its own, or of 
its confederates, — but when it was covered everywhere 
with strong and well appointed posts of the enemy. The 
position of Earl Cornwallis at Winnsboro', completed 
his chain of posts from Georgetown to Augusta, in a circle, 
the centre of which would have been about Beaufort, in 
South Carolina, equidistant from Charleston and Savannah. 
These posts consisted of Georgetown, Camden, Winnsbo- 
ro', Ninety-Six and Augusta. Within this circle was an 
interior chain, at the distance of half the radius, consist- 
ing of Fort Watson on the road to Camden, Motte's house, 
and Granby on the Congaree. Dorchester and Orange- 
burgh, on the road both to Ninety-Six and Granby, were 
fortified as posts of rest and deposit, on the line of commu- 
nication ; as was Monk's Corner, or Biggin Church, and 
some other small posts on that to Camden. These posts 
were all judiciously chosen, both for arming the country and 
obtaining subsistence.* 

* Johnson's Greene, vol. i. 



LIFE OF MARION. 157 

Penetrating between these posts, and snatching their 
prey, or smiting the enemy's detachments, under the very 
jaws of their cannon, our partisans succeeded in embodying 
public opinion, through the very sense of shame, against 
their enemies. The courage of the Whigs was ennobled, 
and their timidity rebuked, when they beheld such a dar- 
ing spirit, and one so crowned by frequent successes, in 
such petty numbers. The esprit de corpSy which these 
successes, and this spirit, awakened in the brigade of Mari- 
an, necessarily imparted itself to the region of country in 
which he operated ; and the admiration which he inspired 
in the friendly, and the fear which he taught to the ad- 
verse, uniting in their effects, brought equally the faithful 
and the doubtful to his ranks. From the moment that he 
eluded the arts, and baffled the pursuit of Tarleton, the 
people of that tract of country, on a line stretching from 
Camden, across, to the mouth of Black Creek on the Pedee, 
including generally both banks of the Wateree, Santee and 
Pedee, were now (excepting Harrison's party on Lynch's 
Creek) either ready, or preparing to join him. Under these 
auspices, with his brigade increasing, Marion began to pre- 
pare for new enterprises. 

The British post at Georgetown was one of considerable 
strength and importance. It was of special importance to 
Marion. From this place he procured, or expected to pro- 
cure, his supplies of salt, clothing, and ammunition. Of 
these commodities he was now grievously in want. To 
surprise Georgetown became as desirable as it was diffi- 
cult. Marion determined to attempt it. It was only by a 
surprise that he could hope to be successful, and he made 
his plans accordingly. They were unfortunate, and the 
event was particularly and personally distressing to him- 
self. To expedite his schemes, he crossed Black river, 
at a retired place, called Potato Ferry, and proceeded by 



158 LIFEOFJIARION. 

the ** Gap-Aviiy" towards the object of tlesire. Three 
miles from tlie town there is an inland swamp, called 
^' White's Bay " which, discharging itself by two mouths, 
the one into JJlack river, the other into Sampit, completely 
insulates the town, which stands on the north side oi' the 
latter river near its junction with Winyaw bay. Over the 
creek which empties into the Sampit, there is a bridge, two 
miles from Georgetown. In the rear of these swamps, 
Marion concealed himself with the main body of his force, 
sending out two parties to reconnoitre. One of these parties 
was commanded by Col. P. Horry, the other by Capt. 
jMelton. These othcers both encountered the enemy, but 
they were not both equally fortunate in the result. Horry 
may be alloAved to tell his own story. " I was sent," he 
writes, ''by Gen. Marion to reconnoitre Georgetown. I 
proceeded Mith a guide through the woods all night. At 
the dawn of day, I drew near the town. I laid an ambus- 
cade, with thirty men and three officers, near the road. 
About sunrise a chair appeared with two ladies escorted by 
two British otlicers. I was ready in advance wuh an offi- 
cer to cut them otf, but reflecting that they might escape, 
and alarm the town, which would prevent my taking greater 
numbers, I desisted. The officers and chair halted very 
near me, but soon the chair went on, and the officers gal- 
lopped in retrograde into the town. Our party continued 
in ambush, until 10 o'clock A. M. 

" Nothing appeai'ing, and men and horses having eaten 
nothuig for thirty-six hours, we *vere hungered, and re- 
tired to a plantation of my (parter-master's, a jNIr. White, 
/lot far distant. There a curious scene took place. As 

soon as I entered the house four ladies appeared, 

two of whom where INIrs. White and her daughter. I waa 
&sked what I wanted. I answered, food, refreshment. 
The other two ladies were those whom I had seen escort- 



LIFE OF MARION 159 

ed by the British officers. They seemed greatly agitated, 
and begged most earnestly that I would go away, for the 
family was very poor, had no provisions of any sort, — that 
I knew that they were Whigs, and surely would not add to 
their distress. So pressing were they for my immediate- 
ly leaving the plantation, that I thought they had more in 
view than they pretended. I kept my eye on Mrs. 
White, and saw she had a smiling countenance, but 
said nothing. Soon she left the room, and I left it also and 
went into the piazza, laid my cap, sword and pistols on the 
long bench, and walked the piazza ; — when I discovered 
Mrs. White behind the house chimney beckoning me. I 
got to her undiscovered by the young ladies, when she said : 
' Colonel Horry, be on your guard ; these two young ladies, 
Miss F — and M — , are just from Georgetown ; they are 
much frightened, and- 1 believe the British are leaving it 
and may soon attack you. As to provisions, which they 
make such a rout about, I have plenty for your men and 
horses in yonder barn, but you must affect to take them by 
force. Hams, bacon, rice, and fodder, are there. You 
must insist on the key of the barn, and threaten to 
split the door with an axe if not immediately opened.' I 
begged her to say no more, for I was well acquainted with 
all such matters — -to leave the ladies and everything else 
to my management. She said ^ Yes ; but do not ruin 
us : be artful and cunning, or Mr. White may be hanged 
and all our houses burnt aver our heads.' We both 
secretly returned, she to the room where the young ladies 
were, and I to the piazza I had just left."* This little 
narrative will give some idea of the straits to which the 
good whig^matrons of Carolina were sometimes reduced in 
those days. But no time was allowed Horry to extort the 

* MS. Life of Horry by himself, pp. 84-87. 



160 LIFE OF MARION 

provisions as suggested. He had scarcely got to the 
piazza when his videttes gave the alarm. Two shots 
warned him of the approach of the foe, and forgetting that 
his cap, sabre and pistols, lay on the long bench on the 
piazza, Horry mounted his horse, left the enclosure, and 
rushed into the melfee. The British were seventeen in 
number, well mounted, and commanded by a brave fellow 
nan:ed Merritt. The dragoons, taken by surprise, turneJ 
in flight, and, smiting at every step, the partisans pursued 
them with fatal earnestness. But two men are reported to 
have escaped death or captivity, and they were their cap- 
tain and a sergeant. It was in approaching to encounter 
Merritt that Horry discovered that he was weaponless. 
" My officers,'* saj^s he, " in succession, came up wath 
Captain Merritt, who was in the rear of his party, urging 
them forward. They engaged him. He was a brave 
fellow. Baxter, with pistols, fired at his breast, and missing 
him, retired ; Postell and Greene, with swords, engaged 
him ; both Wfire beaten off. Greene nearly lost his head 
His buckskin breeches were cut through several inches . . . 
I almost blush to say that this one British officer beat off 
three Americans."* The honor of the day was decidedly 
with Merritt, though he was beaten. He was no doubt a 
far better swordsman than our self-taught cavalry, with 
broadswords wrought out of mill saws. Merritt abandon- 
ed his horse, and escaped to a neighboring swamp, from 
whence, at midnight, he got into Georgetown. | Two of 

* MS. of Horry, p. 89. 

t Weems, speaking: for Horry, tells us that he met wiih Cap- 
tain Merritt after the war in JNew York, who recognized him, and 
told him that he had never had such afright in all his life as 
upon that occasion. " Will you believe me, sir," said he, " when 
I assure you that i went out that morning with my locks o» 
as bright an auburn as ever curled upon the forehead of youth, 
and by the time I had crawled out of the swamp into GecrgPCowK 
ihat night, they were as grey as a badger !" 



LIFE OF MARION. iRl 

Horry's prisoners proved to be American sold'iers ; " the 
sergeant belonged to the 3d Regiment of South CaroUna 
Continentals, and a drummer formerly belonged to my own 
Regiment (the 5th.) The drummer was cruelly wounded 
on the head ; the sergeant was of Virginia, and wounded 
on the arm. They said they had enlisted from the Prison 
Ship to have a chance of escaping and joining their country- 
men ih arms,"* and would have done so that day but thai 
the British captain was in the rear, and they dared not. 
Horry rejoined Marion in safety with his prisoners. 

Captain Melton was not so fortunate. He came in 
contact with a party of Tories, much larger than his own 
force, who were patrolling, under Captain Barfield, near 
^Vhite's Bridge. A sharp, but short action followed, in 
which Melton was compelled to retreat. But Gabriel 
Marion, a nephew of the General, had his horse shot under 
him, and fell into the hands of the Tories. As soon as he- 
was recognized he was put to death, no respite allowed^ 
no pause, no prayer. His name was fatal to him. The 
loss was severely felt by his uncle, who, with no family or 
children of his own, had lavished the greater part of hi.s 
aiTections upon this youth, of whom high expectations had 
been formed, and who had already frequently distinguished 
hin:iself by his gallantry and conduct. He had held a 
lieutenancy in the Second South Carolina Regiment, and 
was present at the battle of Fort Moultrie. Subsequently, 
he had taken part in most of the ac ventures of his uncle. 
Marion felt his privation keenly ; but he consoled him- 
self by saying that " he should not mourn for him. The 
youth was virtuous, and had fallen in the cause of his 
country !" But this event, with some other instances of 
bnitality and murder on the part of the Tories, happening 

♦ MS, of Horry. 
11 



l62 LIFE OF MARION. 

about this time, gave a more savage character than ever 
to the warfare which ensued. Motives of private anger 
and personal revenge embittered and increased the usual 
ferocities of civil war ; and hundreds of dreadful and des- 
perate tragedies gave that peculiar aspect to the struggle, 
which led Greene to say that the inhabitants pursued each 
other rather like wild beasts than like men. In the 
Cheraw district, on the Pedee, above the line where 
Marion commanded, the Whig and Tory warfare, of which 
we know but little beyond this fact, was one of utter ex- 
termination. The revolutionary struggle in Carolina was 
of a sort utterly unknown in any other part of the Union. 

The attempt upon Georgetown was thus defeated. The 
British had taken the alarm, and were now in strength, 
and in a state of vigilance and activity, which precluded 
the possibility of surprise. Marion's wishes, therefore, 
with regard to this place, were deferred accordingly to a 
more auspicious season. H^ retired to Snow's Island, 
where he made his camp. This place acquired large 
celebrity as the '' camp of Marion." To this day it is 
pointed out with this distinguishing title, and its tradition- 
ary honors insisted upon. It was peculiarly eligible for 
his purposes, furnishing a secure retreat, a dep6t for his 
arms, ammunition, prisoners and invalids — difficult of 
access, easily guarded, and contiguous to the scenes of his 
most active operations. " Snow's Island" lies at the con- 
fluence of Lynch's Creek and the Pedee. On the east 
flows the latter river ; on the west, Clark's Creek, issuing 
from Lynch's, and a stream navigable for small vessels ; on 
the north lies Lynch's Creek, wide and deep, but nearly 
choked by rafts of logs and refuse timber. The island, 
high river swamp, was spacious, and, like all the Pedee 
river swamp of that day, abounded in live stock and pro- 
vision Thick woods covered the elevated tracts, dense 



LIFE OF MARION. 163 

cane-brakes the lower, and here and there the eye rested 
upon a cultivated spot, in maize, which the invalids anu 
convalescents were wont to tend. 

Here Marion made his fortress. HaVing seQured all the 
boats of the neighborhood, he chose such as he needed, 
and destroyed the rest. Where the natural defences of 
the island seemed to require aid from art, he bestowed it ; 
and, by cutting away bridges and obstructing the ordinary 
pathways with timber, he contrived to insulate, as much 
as possible, the country under his command. From this 
fortress, his scouting parties were sent forth nightly in all 
directions. Enemies were always easy to be found. The 
British maintained minor posts at Nelson's Ferry and Scott's 
Lake, as well as Georgetown ; and the Tories on Lynch's 
Creek and Little Pedee were much more numerous, if less 
skilfully conducted, than the men of jVIarion. 

Marion's encampment implied no repose, no forbear- 
ance of the active business of war. Very far from it. He 
was never more dangerous to an enemy, than when he 
seemed quietly in camp. His camp, indeed, was frequently 
a lure, by which to tempt the Tories into unseasonable ex- 
posure. The post at Snow's Island gave him particular 
facilities for this species of warfare. He had but to cross a 
river, and a three hours' march enabled hin^'to forage in 
an enemy's country. Reinforcements came to him daily; 
and it was only now, for the first time, that his command 
began to assume the appearance, and exhibit the force of a 
brigade.* He became somewhat bolder in consequence, in 
the tone which he used towards the Tories. We find him 
at this period,! sending forth his officers with orders of a 
peremptory nature. He writes to Adjutant Postell : '^You 
will proceed with a party down Black river, from Black 
Mingo to the mouth of Pedee, and come up to this place 

* December 30, 1780. 

t Correspondence of Marion, quoted by James. 



ifi4 LIFEOF MARION. ^ 

You .will take all the boats and canoes from Euhaney up, 
and impress negroes to bring them to camp — :put some men 
to see them safe. You will take every horse, to whomso- 
ever he may belong, whether friend or foe. You will take 
all arms and ammunition for the use of our service. Yof 
will forbid all persons from carrying any grains, stock, ct 
any sort of provisions to Georgetown, or where the enemy 
may get them, on pain of being held as traitors, and ene- 
mies to the Americans. All persons who will not join you, 
you will take prisoners and bring to me, &c." 

He then laid the country under martial law, the proper 
measure for straitening an enemy, and compelling sluggish 
and doubtful friends to declare themselves. In this pro- 
ceeding he was justified by the authority of Governor 
Rutledge, from whom, with his brigadier's commission, he 
had received military command over a region of country 
of vast extent, which the indefatigable partisan contrived 
to compass and coerce, if not altogether to command and 
control. Similar orders with those which were given to 
Postell, were addressed to Col. P. Horry ) and they were 
both dispatched ; the one, as we have seen, between Black 
and Pedee rivers, the other to Waccamaw Creek. Other 
parties were sent out in other quarters, with like objects; 
and, with the whole contiguous country thus placed under 
the keenest surveillance, Marion hailed the close of the 
year in his swamp fortress. All these parties were more 
or less engaged with the enemy, at different periods, while 
on their scouting expeditions. Several small, but spirited 
achievements, of which histtry condescends to furnish no 
details, occurred among them, in which, however, the par- 
tisans were not always successful. One instance may be 
mentioned. Lieutenant Roger Gordon had been dispatched 
with a small party to patrol on Lynch's Creek. He suf- 
fered himself, while taking refreshments at a house, to be 
surrounded by a party of Tories, unSer Capt. Butler. The 



LIFE OF MARION. l65 

foemy made good his approaches to the house, and iet it 
ou fire. Finding himself greatly outnumbered, and per- 
ceiving that resistance would be useless, Gordon surren- 
dered upon terms ; but as soon as his party had yielded 
up their arms, they were murdered to a man. These 
bloody events were accompanied and followed by others of 
a like character. Nor were the Tories always, or exclu- 
sively guilty. The sanguinary warfare began with them, 
but it was perpetuated by mutual excesses. Shortly after 
the murder of Gabriel Marion, the person who was sup- 
posed to have been, guilty of the savage crime, was taken 
prisoner by Horry. While on the road, returning to the 
camp, environed by his guards, the prisoner was shot down 
by an officer, who escaped detection under cover of the 
night Prisoners, after this, were seldom made on either 
side, where the Whigs and Tories came in conflict. No 
quarter was given. Safety lay in victory alone, and the 
vanquished, if they could not find refuge in the swamps, 
found no mercy from the conqueror. Even where, under 
the occasional influence of a milder mood, or milder cap- 
tain, the discomfited were admitted to present mercy, 
there was still no security for their lives. There were a 
few infuriated men, who defied subordination, by whom, on 
Doth sides, the unhappy captives were sure to be sacrificed. 
We need not say, in behalf of Marion, and his superior 
officers, that, where he or they commanded in person, no 
countenance was given to these bloody principles and per- 
formances. Marion was notoriously the most merciful of 
enemies. The death of the pr.isoner in the ranks of Hor- 
ry, though tljie unhappy man was charged with the murder 
of his favorite nephew, was a subject of the greatest sore, 
ness and annoyance to his mind ; and he warmly expressed 
tne indignation which he felt, at an action which he could 
not punish. 



CHAPTER XL 

Marion's camp at Snow's Island— The Characu r of h:s War. 
fare — Of his Men — Anecdotes of Conyers ani Horry— H€ 
feasts a British Officer on Potatoes — Clnells a Mutiny. 

Marion's career as a partisan, in the thickets and swamps 
of Carolina, is abundantly distinguished by the picturesque ; 
but it was while he held his camp at Snow's Island, that it 
received its highest colors of romance. In this snug and 
impenetrable fortress, he reminds us very much of the an- 
cient feudal baron of France and Germany, who, perched 
on castled eminence, looked down with the complacency of 
an eagle from his eyi'ie, and marked all below him for his 
own. The resemblance is good in all respects but one. 
The plea and justification of Marion are complete. His 
warfare was legitimate. He was no mountain robber, — no 
selfish and reckless ruler, thirsting for spoil and delighting 
inhumanly in blood. The love of liberty, the defence of 
country, the protection of the feeble, the maintenance of 
humanity and all its dearest interests, against its tyrant- • 
these were the noble incentives which strengthened him in 
his stronghold, made it terrible in the eyes of his enemy, and 
sacred in those of his countrymen. Here he lay, grimly 
watching for the proper time and opportunity when to sally 
forth and strike. His position, so far as it sheltered him 
froni his enemies, and gave him facilities for their over- 
throw, v/as wonderfully like that of the knightly robber of 
the Middle Ages. True, his camp was without its castle^ 



L : F E F i.r A R I N , 167 

but it had its fosse and keep — its draw-bridge and port- 
cullis. There were no towers frowning in stone and iron — 
but there were tall pillars of pine and cypress, from the 
waving tops of w^iich the warders looked out, and gave 
warning of the foe or the victim. No cannon thundered 
from his walls; no knights, shining in armor, sallied forth 
to the tourney. He was fond of none of the mere pomps 
of war. He held no revels — " drank no wine through the 
helmet barred," and, quite unlike the baronial ruffian of 
the Middle Ages, was strangely indifferent to the feasts of 
gluttony and swilled insolence. He found no joy in the 
pleasures of the table. Art had done little to increase the 
comforts or the securities of his fortress. It was one, com- 
plete to his hands, from those of nature — -such an one as 
must have delighted the generous English outlaw of Sher- 
wood forest; insulated by deep ravines and rivers, a dense 
forest of mighty trees, and interminable undergrowth. The 
vine and briar guarded his passes. The laurel and the 
shrub, the vine and sweet scented jessamine, roofed his 
dwelling, and clambered up between his closed eyelids 
and the stars. Obstructions, scarcely penetrable by any 
foe, crowded the pathways to his tent ; — and no footstep, 
not practised in the secret, and ^ to the manner born,' might 
pass unchallenged to his midnight rest. The swamp was his 
moat ; his bulwarks were the deep ravines, which, watched 
by sleepless rifles, were quite as impregnable as the castles 
on the Rhine. Here, in the possession of his fortress, the 
partisan slept secure. In the defence of such a place, in 
the employment of such material as he had to use, Marion 
stands out alone in our written history, as the great master 
of that sort of strategy, which renders the untaught militia- 
man in his native thickets, a match for the best drilled 
veteran of Europe. Marion seemed to possess an intuitive 
knowledge of his men and material, by which, without 



} GS L I F £ F M A R I N . 

eflort, he was led to the most judicious modes for their ex- 
ercise. He beheld, at a glaiiQe, the evils or advantages of 
ft position. By a nice adaptation of his resources to his 
situation, he promptly supplied its deficiencies and repaired 
its defects. Till this was done, he did not sleep; — he re- 
laxed in none of his endeavors. By patient toil, by keen- 
est vigilance, by a genius peculiarly his own, he reconciled 
those inequalities of fortune or circumstance, under which 
ordinary men sit down in despair. Surrounded by supe- 
rior foes, he showed no solicitude on this account. If his 
position was good, their superiority gave him little concern. 
He soon contrived to lessen it, by cutting off their advanc- 
ed parties, their scouts or foragers, and striking at their 
detachments in detail. It was on their own ground, in 
their immediate presence, nay, in the very midst of them, 
that he frequently made himself a home. Better live upon 
foes than upon friends, was his maxim ; and this practice 
of living amongst foes was the great school by which his 
people were taught vigilance. \^ 

The adroitness and address of Marion's captainship were 
never more fully displayed than when he kept Snow's 
Island ; sallying forth, as occasion offered, to harass the 
superior foe, to cut off his convoys, or to break up, before 
they could well embody, the gathering and undisciplined 
Tories. His movements were marked by iequal prompti- 
tude and wariness. He suffered no risks from a neglect of 
proper precaution. His habits of circumspection and 
resolve ran together in happy unison. His plans, carefully 
considered beforehand, were always timed with the hap- 
piest reference to the condition and feelings of his men. 
To prepare that condition, and to train those feelings, were 
the chief employment of his repose. He knew his game, 
and how it should be played, before a step was taken or a 
weapon drawn. When he himself, or any of his parties, 



LIFE OF MARION. 169 

left the island, upon an expedition, they advanced along no 
beaten paths. They made them as they went. He had 
the Incian faculty in perfection, of gathering his course 
from the sun, from the stars, from the bark and the tops of 
trees, and such other natural guides, as the woodman ac- 
quires only through long and Vvatchful experience. Many 
of the trails, thus opened by him, upon these expeditions, 
are now the ordinary avenues of the country. On starting, 
he almost invariably struck into the woods, and seeking the 
heads of the larger water courses, crossed them at their 
first and small beginnings. He destroyed the bridges 
where he could. He preferred fords. The former not only 
facilitated the progress of less fearless enemies, but ap- 
prised them of his own approach. If speed was essential, 
a more direct, but not less cautious route was pursued 
The stream was crossed sometimes where it was deepest. 
On such occasions the party swam their horses, Marion 
himself leading the way, though he himself was unable to 
swim. He rode a famous horse called Ball, which he had 
taken from a loyalist captain of that name. This animal 
was a sorrel, of high, generous blood, and took the water as 
if born to it. The- horses of the brigade soon learned to 
follow him as naturally as their riders followed his mas- 
ter. There was no waiting for pontoons and boats. Had 
there been there would have been no surprises. 

The secrecy with Vr'hich Marion conducted his expedi- 
tions was, perhaps, one of the causes of their frequent 
success. He entrusted his schemes to nobody, not even 
his most confidential officers. He consulted with them 
respectfully, heard them patiently, weighed their sugges- 
tions, and silently approached his conclusions They 
knew his determinations only from his actions. He left no 
track behind him, if it were possible to avoid it. He was 
often vainly hunted after by his own detachments. He was 



170 



LIFE OF IVIARION 



more apt at finding them than the}- him. His scouts were 
taught a peculiar and shrill whistle, wh^chjat n.ght, could 
be heard at a most astonishing distance. We are reminded 
of the signal of Roderick Dhu : — 



" He whistled shrill, 

And he was answered from the hill, 
Wild as the scream of the curlew, 
From crag to crag, the signal flew.' 

His expeditions were frequently long, and his men, hurry- 
ing forth without due preparation, not unfrequently suf- 
fered much privation from want of food. To guard aoainst 
this danger, it was their habit to watch his cook. If they 
saw him unusually busied in preparing supplies of the rude, 
portable food, which it was Marion's custom to carry on 
such occasions, they knew what was before them, and 
provided themselves accordingly. In no other way could 
they arrive at their general's intentions. His favorite 
time for moving was with the setting sun, and then it was 
known that the march would continue all night. Before 
striking any sudden blow, he has been known to march 
sixty or seventy miles, taking no other food in twenty- 
four hours, than a meal of cold potatoes and a draught of 
cold water. The latter might have been repeated. This 
was truly a Spartan process for acquiring vigor. Its re- 
sults were a degree of patient hardihood, as well in officers 
as men, to which few soldiers in any periods have attained. • 
These marches were made in all seasons. His men were 
badly clothed in homespun, a light wear which afforded 
little warmth. They slept in the open air, and frequently 
without a blanket. Their ordinary food consisted of sweet 
potatoes, garnished, on fortunate occasions, with lean beef. 
Salt was only to be had when they succeeded in the cap- 
ture of an enemy's commissariat; an! evec when this 



LIFE OF MARION. 171 

most necessary of all human condiments was obtained, 
the unselfish nature of Marion made.him indifferent to its 
use. He distributed it on such occasions, in quantities 
not exceeding a bushel, to each Whig family ; and by this 
patriarchal care, still farther endeared himself to the 
affection of his followers. 

The effect of this mode of progress was soon felt by the 
people of the partisan. They quickly sought to emulate 
the virtues which they admired. They became expert in 
the arts which he practised so successfully. The constant 
employment which he gave them, the nature of his 
exactions, taught activity, vigilance, coolness and audacity. 
His first requisition, from his subordinates, was good infor- 
mation. His scouts were always his best men. They 
were generally good horsemen, and first rate shots. His 
cavalry were, in fact, so many mounted gunmen, not uni- 
formly weaponed, but carrying the rifle, the carbine, or 
an ordinary fowling-piece, as they happened to possess or 
procure them. Their swords, unless taken from the ene- 
my, were made out of mill saws, roughly manufactured by 
a forest blacksmith. His scouts were out in all directions, 
and at all hours. They did the double duty of patrol and 
spies. They hovered about the posts of the enemy, 
crouching in the thicket, or darting along the plain, picking 
up prisoners, and information, and spoils together. They 
cut off stragglers, encountered patrols of the foe, and 
* arrested his supplies on the way to the garrison. Some- 
times the single scout, buried in the thick tops of the tree, 
looked down upon the march of his legions, or hung 
perched over the hostile encampment till it slept, then slip- 
ping down, stole through the silent host, carrying off a 
drowsy sentinel, or a favorite charger, upon which the dar- 
ing spy flourished conspicuous among his less fortunate com- 
panions The boldness of these adventurers "was sometimes 



1 72 L I F E F M A R I O :* 

\vonderfu nlmost beyond belief. It was the strict icsult of 
Ihat confici^nce in th^ir woodman skill, which the practice 
of their leader, and his invariable success, naturally' taught 
them to entertain. 

The mutual confidence which thus grew up between our 
partisan and his men, made the business of war, in spite of 
its peculiar difficulties and privations, a pleasant one. As 
they had no doubts of their leader's ability to conduct 
them to victory, he had no apprehension, but, when brought 
to a meeting with the enemy, that they would secure it. 
His mode of battle was a simple one ; generally very 
direct ; but he was wonderfully prompt in availing him- 
self of the exigencies of the affair. His rule was to know 
his enemy, how posted and in what strength, — then, if his 
men were set on, they had nothing to do but to fight. 
They knew that he had so placed them that valor was the 
only requisite. A swamp, right or left, or in his rear ; a 
thicket beside him ; — any spot in which time could be 
gained, and an inexperienced militia rallied, long enough 
to become reconciled to the unaccustomed sights and sounds 
of war, — were all that he required, in order to secure a fit 
position for fighting in. He found no difficulty in making 
good soldiers of them. It caused him no surprise, and we 
may add no great concern, that his raw militia men, armed 
with rifle and ducking gun, should retire before the pushing 
bayonets of a regular soldiery. He considered it mere 
butchery to expose them to this trial. But he taught his 
men to retire slowly, to take post bejiind the first tree or 
thicket, reload, and try the effect of a second fire ; and so 
on, of a third and fourth, retiring still, but never forgetting 
to take advantage of every shelter that offered itself. He 
expected them to fly, but not too far to be useful. We 
shall see the effect of this training at Eutaw, where the 
militia ir. the advance delivered seventeen fires, before 



LIFE OF M A K I ^ .' 



173 



they yielded to the pvess of the enemy. But, says John- 
son, with equal truth and terseness, " that distrust of their 
own immediate commanders which militia are too ai to 
be affected with, never produced an emotion where Marion 
and Pickens commanded '* The history of American war- 
fare shows conclusively that, under the right leaders, the 
American mihtia are as rool in moments of danger as the 
be^t drilled soldiery in the universe. But they have been 
a thousand times disgrace-^ by imbecile and vainglorious 

pretenders. 

Marion was admirably supported by his followers 
Several officers of the brigade were distinguished men. 01 
Major John James we havi- already seen something. All 
the brothers were men of courage and great muscular 
activity. The Witherspoons were similarly endowed. 
His chief counsellors were the brothers Horry, and 
Postell,— all like himself descended from Huguenot stocks, 
To the two last (the brothers Fostell) it has been remark- 
ed, that ^'nothing appeared difficult."* Captains Baxter 
and Conyers were particularly distinguished,-the first for 
his cio-antic frame, which was informed by a correspondiag 
cou?a^e ; the- latter by his equal bravery and horseman- 
ship " He was a sort of knight-errant in the brigade, 
and his behavior seemed not unfrequently dictated by a 
passion for chivalrous display. An anecdote, m connection 
with Conyers, is told, which will serve to show what 
was the spirit of the patriotic damsels of the revolution. 
Marion had environed Colonel Watson, at a plantation 
where Mary, the second daughter of John Wilhevspoon, 
was living at the time. She was betroth. ^ ..Cowers. 
The gallant captain daily challenged the Cr'ti-^h T^i^\ 

* History c" Greene, p 225, vol. ii. 
. Judge jame:s'.Skelcl» ^f Marion. 



174 LIFE OF MARI( N 

skirmishing in the sight of his mistress. His daring was 
apparent enough — his great skill and courage were known. 
He presented himself frequently before the lines of the enemy, 
either as a single champion or at the head of his troop. 
The pride of the maiden's heart may be imagined when she 
heard the warning in the camp, as she frequently did — 
" Take care, — there is Conyers !" The insult was unreserit- 
ed : but, one day, when her lover appeared as usual, a 
British officer, approaching her, spoke sneeringly, or dis- 
respectfully, of our knight-errant. The high spirited girl 
drew the shoe from her foot, and flinging it in his face, ex- 
claimed, " Coward ! go and meet him !" The chronicler 
from whom we derive this anecdote is particularly careful to 
tell us that it was a walking shoe and not a kid> slipper 
which she made use of; by which we are to understand, 
that she was no ways tender of the stroke. 

The Horrys were both able officers. Hugh was a par- 
ticular favorite of Marion. For his brother he had large 
esteem. Of Peter Horry we have several amusing anec- 
dotes, some of which we gather from himself. It is upon 
the authority of his MS. memoir that we depend for seve- 
ral matters of interest in this volume. This memoir, 
written in the old age of the author, and while he suffered 
from infirmities of age and health, is a crude but not unin- 
teresting narrative of events in his own life, and of the 
war. The colonel confesses himself very frankly. In his 
youth he had a great passion for the sex, which led him 
into frequent difficulties. These, though never very seri- 
ous, he most seriously relates. He was brave, and ambi- 
tious of distinction. This ambition led him to desire a 
command of cavalry rather than of infantry. But he was 
no rider — was several times unhorsed in combat, and was 
indebted to the fidelity of his soldiers for his safety.* On 
* MS. Memoir, p 51. 



LIFE OF MARION 175 

one occasion his escape was more narrow frcm a diiferent 
cause. He gives us a ludicrous account of it himself 
Crossing the swamp at Lynch's Creek, to join Marion, in 
the dark, and the swamp swimming, he encountered the 
bough of a tree, to which he clung, while his horse passed 
from under him. He was no swimmer, pnd, but for timely 
assistance from his followers, would hav^ been drowned. 
Another story, which places him in a scarcely less ludicrous 
attitude, is told by Garden.* He was ordered by Marion 
to wait, in ambush, the approach of a British detachment. 
The duty was executed with skill ; the enemy was com- 
pletely in his power. But he labored under an impedi- 
ment in his speech, which, we may readily suppose, was 
greatly increased by anxiety and excitement. The word 
" fire" stuck in his throat, as " amen" did in that of Mac- 
beth. The emergency was pressing, but this only increased 
the difficulty. In vain did he make the attempt. He could 
say " fi — fi — fi !" but he could get no further — the " r" was 
incorrigible. At length, irritated almost to madness, he 

exclaimed, " Shooty d n you, shoot ! you know what 

I would say ! Shoot, and be d d to you !" He was 

present, and acted bravely, in almost every affair of conse- 
quence, in the brigade of Marion. At Quinby, Capt. Bax- 
ter, already mentioned, a man distinguished by his great 
strength and courage, as well as size, and by equally great 
simplicity of character, cried out, " I am wounded, colo- 
nel !" " Think no more of it, Baxter," was the answer 
of Horry, " but stand to your post." " But 1 can't stand," 
says Baxter, '' I am wounded a second time." "Lie 
down then, Baxter, but quit not your post." " They have 
shot me again, colonel," said the wounded man, " and if I 
stay any longer here, I shall be shot to pieces." " Be it 
90, Baxter, but stir not," was the order, wliich the brave 
• Aueedotcs, fu'st ,serics, p. oC 



176 L I F E F M A R I O X . 

fellow obeyed, receiving a fourth woUnd before the engage- 
ment was over. 

It was while Marion was lying with his main force at 
the camp at Snow's Island, that two circumstances oc- 
curred which deserve mention, as equally serving to illus- 
.trate his own character, and the warfare of that time and 
region. One of these occurrences has long been a popular 
an«cdote, and, as such, has been made the subject of a 
very charming picture, which has done something towards 
giving it a more extended circulation.* The other is less 
generally known, but is not less deserving of the popular 
ear, as distinguishing, quite as much as the former, the 
purity, simplicity, and firmness of Marion's character. It 
appears that, desiring the exchange of prisoners, a young 
officer was dispatched from the British post at Georgetown 
to the swamp encampment of Marion, in order to effect 

his object. He was encountered by one of the scouting 
larties of the brigade, carefully bhndfolded, and conducted, 

ly intricate paths, through the wild passes, and into the 
ieep recesses of the island. Here, when his eyes were 
uncovered, he found himself surrounded by a motley mul- 
titude, which might well have reminded him of Robm 
Hood and his outlaws. The scene was unquestionably 
wonderfully picturesque and attractive, and our young 
officer seems to have been duly impressed by it. He was 
in the middle of one of those grand natural amphitheatres 
so common in our swamp forests, in which the massive 
pine, the gigantic cypress, and the stately and ever-green 
laurel, streaming with moss, and linking their opposite 
arms, inflexibly locked in the embrace of centuries, group 
together, with elaborate limbs and loa\es, the chief and 

* General Marion, in his swamp encampment, inviting the 
British officer to dinner. Painted by J B. White ; entrraved tjf 
Sartain ; published bv the Anoll© Assoria'ion 



LIFE OF MARION. 171 

most graceful features of Gothic architecture. To these 
recesses, through the massed foliage of the forest, the sun- 
light came as sparingly, and with rays as mellow and sub- 
dued, as through the painted window of the old cathedral^ 
falling upon aisle and chancel. Scattered around were the 
forms of those hardy warriors with whom our young 
officer was yet destined, most probably, to meet in conflict, 
— strange or savage in costume or attitude — lithe and 
sinewy of frame — keen-eyed and wakeful at the least' 
alarm. Some slept, some joined in boyish sports ; some 
with foot in stirrup, stood ready for the signal to mount 
and march. The deadly rifle leaned against the tree, the 
sabre depended from its boughs. Steeds were browsing 
in the shade, with loosened bits, but saddled, ready at the 
first sound of the bugle to skirr through brake and thicj^et. 
Distant fires, dimly burning, sent up their faint white 
smokes, that, mingling with the thick forest tops, which 
ihey could not pierce, were scarce distinguishable from the 
long grey moss which made the old trees look like so 
ma: v ancient patriarchs. But the most remarkable object 
in all this scene was Marion himself. Could it be that the 
person who stood before our visitor — '' in skture of the 
smallest size, thin, as well as low"* — was that of the 

* Henry Lee's Memoirs, He adds : " His visage was not 
pleasing, and his manners not captivating. He was reserved 
and silent, entering into conversation only when necessary, and 
then with modesty and good sense. He possessed a strong 
mind, improved ^y its own reflections and observations, not by 
books or trave'. His dress was like his address — plain, regard- 
mg comfort and decency only. In his meals he was abstemious, 
eatmg generally of one dish, and drinking water mostly. He 
was sedulous and constant in his attention to the duties of his 
staticn, to which every other consideration yielded. Even the 
charms of the fair, like the luxuries of the table and the allure- 
ments of wealth, seemed to je lost upon hirrj. The procurement 
of subsistence for his men, and the contiiuance of annoyance. 
for his enemy, engrossed his entire mind. He was virtuous all 

12 



17S LIFE OF M IRION, 

redoubted chief, whose sleepless activity and palnot c 
zeal had carried terror to the gates of Charleston ; had 
baffled the pursuit and defied the arms of the best British 
captains ; had beaten the equal enem}^, and laughed at the 
superior ? Certainly, if he were, then never were the 
simple resources of intellect, as distinguishable from strength 
of limb, or powers of muscle, so wonderliilly evident as in 
this particular instance. The physical powers of Marion 
were those simply of endurance. His frame had an iron 
hardihood, derived from severe discipline and subdued de- 
sires and appetites, but lacked the necessar}'^ muscle and 
capacities of the mere soldier. It was as the general, the 
commander, the counsellor, rather than as the simple 
leader of his men, that Marion takes rank, and is to be 
considered in the annals of war. He attempted no physi- 
cal achievements, and seems to have placed very little re- 
liance upon his personal prowess.* 

The British visitor was a young man who had never seen 
Marion. The gTcat generals v/hom he was accustomed 

over ; never, even in manner, much less in reality, did he trench 
upon right. Beloved by his friends, and respected by his ene- 
mies, he exhibited a luminous example of the beneficial effects 
to be produced by an individual who, with only small means at 
his command, possesses a virtuous heart, a strong head, and a 
mind directed to the common good." — Appendix to Memoirs^ 
vol. i. pp. 396. 

* The dislike or indifference of Marion, to anything like mere 
military display, was a matter of occasional comment, and some 
jest, among his followers. Among other proofs which are given 
of this indifference, we are told, thai, on one occasion, attempting 
to draw his sword from the scabbard, he failed to do so in conse- 
quence of the rust, the result of his infrequent employment of the 
weapon. Certainly, a rich event in the life of a military man. 
The fact is, that Marion seldom used his sword except in battle, 
or on occasions when its employment was inseparable from his 
duties. Long swords were then in fashion, but he continued to 
wear the small cut and thrust of me second regiment. Such a 
weapon better suited his inferior physique, and necessarily lessened 
the motives to personal adventure. 




to 



LIFE OF MARION. 179 

to see, were great of limb, portly, and huge <f proportion. 
Such was Cornwallis, and others of the British army 
Such, too, was the case among the Americans. The aver 
age weight of these opposing generals, during that war, is 
stated at more than two hundred pounds. The successes 
of Marion must naturally have led our young Englishman 
to look for something in his stature even above this ave- 
rage, and verging on the gigantic. Vastness seems always 
the most necessary agent in provoking youthful wonder, 
and satisfying it. His asto'nishment, when they did meet, 
was, in all probability, not of a kind to lessen the partisan 
m his estimation. That a frame so slight, and seemingly 
so feeble, coupled with so much gentleness, and' so little 
pretension, should provoke a respect so general, and fears, 
on one side, so impressive, was well calculated to compel 
inquiry as to the true sources of this influence. Such an 
inquiry was in no way detrimental to a reputation founded, 
like Marion's, on the successful exercise of peculiar men- 
tal endowments. The young officer, as soon as his busi- 
ness was dispatched, prepared to depart, but Marion gently 
detained him, as he said, for dinner, which was in prepara- 
tion. " The mild and dignified simplicity of Marion's 
manners had already produced their effects, and, to prolong 
so interesting an interview, the invitation was accepted- 
The entertainment was served up on pieces of bark, and 
consisted entirely of roasted potatoes, of which the gene- 
ral ate heartily, requesting his guest to profit by his exam- 
ple, repeating the old adage, that ' hunger is the best sauce",' 
" But surely, general," said the officer, " this cannot be 
your ordinary fare." " Indeed, sir, it is," he replied, " and 
we are fortunate on this occasion, entertaining company, to 
have more than our usual allowance"* The story goes, 
that the young Briton was so greatly impressed with the 
* Garden — Anecdotes — First Series, iap 22. 



ISO LIFE or JNI A K I O N . 

occurrence, that, on his return to Georgetown, he retire J 
from the service, declaring his conviction that men who 
could with such content endure the privations of such a 
life, were not to be subdued. His conelusion was strictly 
logical, and hence, indeed, the importance of such a war- 
fare as that carried on b}* Marion, in which, if he obtained 
no great victories, he was yet never to be overcome. 

The next anecdote, if less pleasing in its particulars, is 
yet better calculated for the development of Marion's 
character, the equal powers of firmness and forbearance 
which he possessed, his superiority to common emotions, 
and the mingled gentleness and dignity with which he ex- 
ecuted the most unpleasant duties of his command. Marion 
had placed one of his detachments at the plantation of a 
Mr. George Crofts, on Sampit Creek. This person had 
proved invariably true to the American cause ; had sup- 
plied the partisans secretly with the munitions of war. 
with cattle and provisions. He was an invalid, however, 
suffering from a mortal infirmity, which compelled his 
removal for medical attendance to Georgetown, then in 
possession of the enemy.* During the absence of the 
family, Marion placed a sergeant in the dwelling-house, 
for its protection. From this place the guard was expelled 
by two officers of the brigade, and the house stripped of 
its contents. The facts were first disclosed to Marion by 
Col. P. Horry, who received them from the wife of Crofts. 
This lady pointed to the sword of her husband actually at 
the side of the principal otFender. The indignation ol 

* The brigade of Marion was for a long- period without medi- 
cal attendance or a surgeon to dress his wounded. If a wound 
reached an artery the patient bled to death. To illustrate the 
fiercehostility of Whigs and Tories, a single anecdote will suffice. 
On one occasion, Horry had three men wounded near George- 
town. A surgeon of the Tories was then a prisoner in his ranks^ 
yet he positively refused to dress the wounds, and suffered a fine 
youth named Kolb, to bleed to death befo.^e his eyes, from a slight 
injury upon the wrist. 



LIFE OF RIARION- 181 

Marion was not apt to expend itself in words. Iledress 
was promised to tlie complainant and she was dismissed. 
^Marion pr9ceeded with all dih'gence to the recovery of tlie 
property. But his course was governed by prudence as 
well as decision. The ofi'enders were men of some in- 
iluence, and had a small faction in the brigade, which had 
already proved troublesome, and might be dangerous. One 
of them was a major, the other a captain. Their names 
are both before us in the MS. memoir of Horry, whose 
copious detail on this subject leaves nothing to be supplied. 
We forbear giving them, as their personal publication 
would answer no good purpose. They were in command 
of a body of men, about sixty in number, known as the 
Georgia Refugees. Upon the minds of these men the 
oflenders had already sought to act, in reference to the ex- 
pected collision with their general. Marion made his 
preparations with his ordinary quietness, and then dispatch- 
ed Horry to the person who was in possession of the 
sword of Croft ; for which he made a formal demand. He 
refused to give it up, alleging that it was his, and taken in 
war. " If the general wants it," he added, " let him come 
for it himself." When this reply was communicated to 
Marion he instructed Horry to renew the demand. His 
purpose seems to have been, discovering the temper of the 
offender, to gain the necessary time. His officers, mean- 
while, were gathering around him. He was makino- his 
preparations for a struggle, which might be bloody, which 
might, indeed, involve -not only the safety of his brigade, 
but his own future usefulness. Horry, however, with 
proper spirit, entreated not to be sent again to the offender, 
giving, as a reason for his reluctance, that, in consequence 
of the previous rudeness of the other, he was not in the 
mood to tolerate a repetition of the indignity, and mip-ht, 
if irritated, be provoked to violence. Marion then dis- 



182 LIFE OF MARION. 

patched his orderly to the guilty major, with a request 
civilly worded, that he might see him at head quarters 
He appeared accordingly, accompanied by the captain who 
had joined with him in the outrage, and under whose ir 
fluence he appeared to act. Marion renewed his demand, 
in person, for the sword of Croft. The other again refused 
to deliver it, alleging that '■' Croft was a Tory, and even 
then with the enemy in Georgetown." 

" Will you deliver me the sword or not, Major ?" 

was the answer which Marion made to this suggestion. 

" I will not !" was the reply of the offender. " At these 
words," says Horry in the MS. before us, '^ I could for- 
bear no longer, and said with great warmth, ' By G — d, 
sir, did I command this brigade, as you do, I would hang 
them both up in half an hour !' Marion sternly replied, — 
• This is none of your business, sir : they are both before 
me ! — Sergeant of the guard, bring me a file of men with 
loaded arms and fixed bayonets !' — 'I was silent !' adds 
Horry: ' all our field officers in camp were present, and 
when the second refusal of the sword was given, they all 
put their hands to their swords in readiness to draw. My 
own sword was already drawn !' 

In the regular service, and with officers accustomed to, 
and bred up in, the severe and stern sense of authority 
which is usually thought necessary to a proper discipline, 
the refractory offender would most probably have been hewn 
down in the moment of his disobedience. The effect of 
such a proceeding, in the present instance, might have been 
of the most fatal character. The esprit de corps might have 
prompted the immediate followers of the offender to have 
seized upon their v/eapons, and, though annihilated, as 
Horry tells us they would have been, yet several valuable 
lives might have been lost, w^hich the country could ill 
have spared. The mutiny would have been put down, 



LIFE OF MARION 



18: 



nut at what a price! The patience and prudence of 
Marion's character taught him forbearance. His mild- 
ness, by putting the offender entirely in the wrong, so 
justified his severity, as to disarm the followers of the 
criminals. These, as we have already said, were about 
sixty in number. Horry continues : "Their intentions were, 
to call upon these men for support— our officers well knew 
that they meant, if possible, to intimidate Marion, so as to 
[make him] come into their measures of plunder and Tory- 
killino-." The affair fortunately terminated without blood- 
shed. The prudence of the general had its effect. The 
delay gave time to the offenders for reflection. Perhaps, 
looking round upon their followers, they saw no consenting 
spirit of mutiny in their eyes, encouraging their own ; 
for, " though many of these refugees were present, none of- 
fered to back or support the mutinous officers ;" — and when 
the guard that was ordered, appeared in sight, the compa- 
nion of the chief offender was seen to touch the arm of the 
other, who then proffered the sword to Marion, saying, 
" General, you need not have sent for the guard."* Ma- 
rion, refusing to receive it, referred him to the sergeant of 
the guard, and thus doubly degraded, the dishonored major 
of Continentals — for he w^as such— disappeared from sight, 
followed by his associate. His farther punishment was of 
a kind somewhat differing from those w^hich are common 
to armies, by which the profession of arms is sometimes 
quite as much dishonored as the criminal. Marion en- 
deavored, by his punishments, to elevate the sense of 
character in the spectators. He had some of the notions 
of Napoleon on this subject. He was averse to those 
brutal punishments which, in the creature, degrade the 
glorious image of the Creator. In the case of the two of- 

*H':-rysMS, fron which the several extracts preceding 
hnve li'in made. — pp. 100-103. 



1S4 LIFE OF MARION 

fenders, thus dismissed from his presence, the penalty iv^as, of 
all others, the most terrible to persons, in whose minds there 
remained the sparks even of a conventional honor. These 
men had been guilty of numerous offences against humanity. 
Marion expelled them from his brigade. Subsequently, 
their actions became such, that he proclaimed their out- 
lawry through the country.* By one of these men he was 
chalieno-ed to Single combat, but he treated the summons 
with deserved contempt. His composure remained unruf- 
fled by the circumstance. 

In this aiiair, as in numerous others, Marion's great 
knowledge of the militia service, and of the peculiar 
people with whom he sometimes had to deal, enabled him 
to relieve himself with little difficulty from troublesome 
companions. Of these he necessarily had many ; for the 
exigencies of the country w^cre such that patriotism was 
not permitted to be too nice in the material which it was 
compelled to employ. The refugees were from various 
quarters — were sometimes, as we have seen, adopted into 
his ranks from those of the defeated Tories, and were 
frequently grossly ignorant, not only of what wa." due to 
the community in which they found themselves, but still 
more ignorant of the obligations of that military law to 
which they voluntarily put themselves in subjection 
Marion's modes of punishment happily reached all such 
cases without making the unhappy offender pay too dearly 
for the sin of ignorance. On one occasion, Horry tells us 
that he carried before him a prisoner charged with deser- 
tion to the enemy. " Marion released him, saying to me, 
* let him go, he is too worthless to deserve the considera- 

* He set np on trees and houses, in public places, pioclama- 

tions in substance thus, that Major and Cap" did not 

belong to his brigade, that they were banditti, robbers and 
thieves, — were hereby deemed out of the laws, and might be 
killed wherever found. — Horry's MS. pp. 104, 105. 



L I F E F M A R I N . 185 

tion of a court martial.' " Such a decision in such a case, 
would have shocked a military martinet, and yet, in all 
probability, the fellow thus discharged, never repeated the 
offence, and fought famously afterwards in the cause of 
his merciful commander. We have something yet to learn 
on these subjects. The result of a system in which scorn 
is so equally blended with mercy, was singularly good 
In the case of the person offending (as is frequently the 
case among militia) through sheer ignorance of martial law, 
it teaches while it punishes, and reforms, in some degree, 
the being which it saves. Where the fault flows from 
native worthlessness of character the effect is not less 
beneficial. One of Marion's modes of getting rid of worth- 
less officers, was to put them into Coventry. In this prac • 
tice his good ofHcers joined him, and their sympathy and 
co-operation soon secured his object. '' He kept a list oi 
them," said Horry, '' which he called his Black List. 
This mode answered so well that many resigned their 
commissions, and the brigade was thus fortunately rid ot 
such worthless fellows." The value of such a riddance 
is well shown by another sentence from the MS. of our 
veteran. " 1 found the men seldom defective, were it not 
for the bad example set them by their officers."* 

* MS. pp. 5S. 



CHAPTER XII 

GIfcneral Gfe?ne assumes command of the Southern army — nu 
Correspondence with Marion. — Condition of the Country. 
Marion and Lee surprise Georgetown. — Col. Horry defeats 
Gainey. — Marion pursues Mc Ilraith. — Proposed pitched battle 
between picked men. 

The year 1781 opened, with new interest, the great 
drama of war in South Carolina. In that State, as we have 
seen, deprived of a large portion of her mihtary effectives, 
opposition had never entirely ceased to the progress of the 
invader, New and more strenuous exertions, on the part 
of Congress, were made io - Iw hcv the necessary assistance. 
Without this, the war, prolonged with whatever spirit by 
the partisans, was not hkcly, because of their deficient 
?nateriel and resources, to reach ai5y decisive results. We 
may yield thus much, though we are unwilling to admit 
the justice of those opinions, on the part of General Greene 
and other ofHcers of the regular army, by which thef-i^llu- 
ence of the native militia, on the events of the war. Was 
quite too much disparaged. But for this militia, and .the 
great spirit and conduct manifested by the partisan leaders 
in Carolina, no regular force which Congress would or 
could have sent into the field, would have sufficed for the ' 
recovery of the two almost isolated States of South Caro- 
lina and Georgia. Indeed, we are inclined to think that, but 
for the native spirit which they had shown in the conquest, 
no attempt would have been made for their recovery. Wo 



LIFE OF MARION. 187 

should be at a loss, unless we recognized the value of this 
native spirit, and the importance of its achievements, how- 
ever small individually, to determine by what means these 
Stales were finally recovered to the American confederacy 
In no single pitched battle between the two grand armies 
did the Americans obtain a decided victory. The fruits of 
victory enured to them, quite as much in consequence of 
the active combination of the partisan captains, as by the 
vjgor of their own arms. By these the enemy were 
harassed with unparalleled audacity — their supplies and 
convoys cut off, their detachments captured or cut to 
jjiecrs, their movements watched, and their whole influ- 
ence so narrowed and restrained, as to be confined almost 
entirely to those places where they remained in strength. 
Jt is not meant by this, to lessen in any degree the value 
of the services rendered by the Continental forces. These 
were very great, and contributed in large measure to bring 
the war- to an early and a happy issue. It is only intended 
to insist upon those claims of the partisans, which, unassert- 
ed by themselves, have been a little too irreverently dis- 
missed by others. But for these leaders, Marion, Sumter, 
Picfeens, Davie, Hamjoton, and some fifty more well en- 
dovvQ^ and gallaijt spirits, the Continental forces sent to 
Carolifia would have vainly flung themselves upon the 
impenetrable masses of the British. 

It was the vitality thus exhibited by the country, by the 
native captains and people, that persuaded Congress, 
though sadly deficient in materials and men, to make 
another attempt to afford to the South, the succor which 
it asked. The wreck of the army under Gates had been 
coiiected by that unfortunate commander at Charlotte, 
North Carolina. He was superseded in its command by 
General Greene, a soldier of great firmness and discretion^ 
leat prudence and forethought — qualities the very oppo 




188 LIFE OF MARICN 

Site of those by which his pivdecessor seems to have b^en 
distinguished. New hopes were awakened by this changQ 
of command, which, though slow of fruition, were riot finally 
to be disappointed. Greene's assumption of command was 
distinguished by a happy augury. In a few hours after 
reaching camp Charlotte, he received intelligence of the 
success of Lt.-Col Washington, against the British post 
held at Clermont, South Carolina, by the British Colonel 
Rugely. Rugely was well posted in a redoubt, M^hich 
was tenable except against artillery. Washington's force 
consisted only of cavalry. A pleasant ruse de guerre of the 
latter, which produced some little ^herriment among the 
Americans at the expense of the British colonel, enabled 
Washington to succeed. A pine log was rudely hewn into 
the appearance of a cannon, and, mounted upon wagon 
wheels, was advanced with solemnity to the attack. The 
affair looked sufliciently serious, and Hugely, to avoid any 
unnecessary effusion of blood, yielded the post. Corn- 
wallis, drily commenting on the transaction, in a letter to 
Tarleton, remarks, " Rugely will not be made a brigadier." 
Greene proceeded in the duties of his command with 
characteristic vigilance and vigor. He soon put his army 
under marching orders for the Pedee, which river he reach- 
ed on the 26th of December. He took post near Hicks' 
Creek, on the east side of the river. Before leaving camp 
Charlotte, he had judiciously made up an independent 
brigade for General Morgan, composed of his most efficient 
soldiers. It consisted of a corps of light infantry, detached 
from the Maryland line, of 320 men; a body of Virginia 
militia of 200 men, and Washington's cavalry, perhaps one 
hundred more. Morgan was to be joined, on reaching the 
tract of country assigned to his operations in South Caro- 
lina, by the militia lately under Sumter ; that gallant leader 
being still hors de combat y in consequence of the severe 



LIFE OF :.l A R I O N . 189 

wound received at Blackstock's. The force of Morgan was 
expected to be still farther increased by volunteer militia 
troin North Carolina ; and he received a powerful support 
in the co-operation of Col. Pickens, with the well exercised 
militia under his command. 

The object of this detachment was to give confiaence 
and exicouragement to the country, to inspirit the patriots, 
overawe the Tories, and facilitate the accumulation of the 
necessary provisions. The main army at Hicks' Creek, 
meanwhile, formed a camp of repose. This was necessary, 
as well as time and training, to its usefulness. It was sad'^y 
deficient in all the munitions and materials of war — the 
mere skeleton of an army, thin in numbers, and in a me- 
lanj?holy state of nakedness. *' Were you to arrive," says 
Greene, in a letter to Lafayette, dated December 29, ''you 
would find a few ragged, half-starved troops in the wilder- 
ness, destitute of everything necessary for either the com- 
fort or convenience of soldiers." The department was not 
only in a deplorable condition, but the country was laid 
waste. Such a warfare as had been pursued among the 
inhabitants, beggars description. The whole body of the 
population seems to have been in arms, at one time or 
another, and, unhappily, from causes already discussed, in 
opposite ranks. A civil war, as history teaches, is like no 
other. Like a religious war, the elements of a fanatical 
passion seem to work the mind up to a degree of ferocity, 
which is not common among the usual provocations of hatft 
in ordinary warfare. " The inhabitants," says Greene, 
" pursue each other with savage fury. . . . The Whigs 
and the Tories are butchering one another hourly. The war 
here is upon a very different scale from what it is to the 
northward. It is a plain business there. The geography 
of the country reduces its operations to two or three points 
But here, it is everywhere ; and the country is so full of 



190 L 1 F K F M A Kl U N . 

deep rivers and impassable creeks and swamps, that you are 
always liable to misfortunes of a capital nature." 

The geographical character of the country, as described 
by Greene, is at once suggestive of the partisan warfare. 
It is the true sort of warfare for such a country. The 
sparseness of its settlements, and the extent of its plains, 
indicate the employment of cavalry — the intricate woods 
and swamps as strikingly denote the uses and importance 
of riflemen. The brigade of Marion combined the quali- 
ties of both. 

General Greene, unlike his predecessor, knew the value 
01 such services as those of Marion. On taking command 
at Charlotte, the very day after his arrival, he thus writes 
to our partisan : " I have not," says he, " the honor of your 
acquaintance, but am no stranger to your character and 
merit. Your services in the lower part of South Carolina, 
in awing the Tories and preventing the enemy from extend- 
ing their limits, have been very important. And it is my 
earnest desire that you continue w^here you are until far- 
ther advice from me. Your letter of the 22d of last montli 
to General Gates, is before me. I am fully sensible your 
service is hard and sufferings great, but how great the prize 
for which we contend ! 1 like your plan of frequently 
shifting your ground. It frequently prevents a surprise and 
perhaps a total loss of j'^our party. Until a more perma- 
nent army can be collected than is in the field at present, we 
must endeavor to keep up a partisan war, and preserve 
the tide of sentiment among the pc^ople in our favor as 
much as possible. Spies are the eyes of an army, and 
without them a general is always groping in the dark^ 
and can neither secure himself, nor annoy his enemy. 
At present, I am badly off for intelligence. It is of the 
highest importance that I get the earliest intelligence of 
any reinforcement wlii'^:h may arrive at Charleston. I wish 



LIFE O F iM A i; I N 



i9i 



you, therefore, to fix borne planfdr procuring such informa- 
tion and conveying it to me with all possible dispatch. 
The spy should be taught to be particular in his inquiries 
and get the names of the corps, strength and commanding 
officer's name— place from whence they came and where 
they are going. It will be best to fix upon somebody in 
town to do this, and have a runner between you and him to 
give you the intelligence ; as a person who Hves out of town 
cannot make the inquiries without being suspected. The 
utmost secrecy will be necessary in the business." 

This letter found Marion at one of his lurking places on 
Black river. It was properly addressed to him. He was 
the man who, of all others, was not only best acquainted 
with the importance of good information, furnished prompt 
ly, but who had never been without his spies and runners, 
from the first moment when he took the field. He readily 
assumed the duty, and upon him Greene wholly relied for 
his intelligence of every sort. Every occurrence in Charles- 
ton, Georgetown, and the whole low country, was promptly 
furnished to the commander, to whom, however, Marlon 
complains generally of the embarrassment in procuring incel- 
ligence, arising from the want of a little hard money— but 
this want was quite as great in the camp of Greene as m 
that of the partisan. 

It is probable that Marion had communicated to Gen- 
eral Gates a desire to strengthen his miUtia with a small 
force of regular troops. With such a force, it was expect- 
ed that somethingof a more decisive nature coald be effected . 
Ills eye was upon Georgetown. The capture of that post 
was particularly desirable on many accounts ; and if his views 
and wishes were not communicated to Gates, they were to 
Greene, who subsequently made his dispositions for promot- 
ing them. While the latter was moving down to his camp 
at°Hicks' Creek. Marion was engaged in some very active 



192 LIFEOFMARION. 

movements against a party under McArthur and CofiSn, 
and between that and the High Hills of the Santee. To 
cut off his retreat by the Pedee, a strong detachment had 
been pushed on from Charleston to Georgetown, intended 
to intercept him by ascending the north bank of the Pedee 
river. But Marion, informed of the movement, readily 
divined its object, and, retiring across the country, took a 
strong position on Lynch 's Creek, in the vicinity of his favor- 
ite retreat at Snow's Island, where he always kept a force 
to guard his boats and overawe the Tories. The moment 
his pursuers had left the ground, Marion resumed offensive 
operations upon it. In a short time, his parties were push- 
ed down to the immediate neighborhood of Georgetown, on 
all the rivers that flow into the bay of Winyaw. His small- 
er parties were actively busy in collecting boats and trans- 
ferring provisions to Snow's Island. This was with the 
twofold purpose of straitening the enemy, and supplying 
the Continental army. In the meantime, with a respecta- 
ble force of mounted infantry, he himself pressed closely 
upon the town, watching an opportunity when he might 
attempt something with a prospect of success. But the 
British confined themselves to their redoubts. Marion had 
neither bayonets nor artillery. With one hundred Conti- 
nental troops — he writes with his usual modesty to Greene 
— he should be able to render important services. While 
thus employed, he received intelligence that the loyahsts 
were embodying above him, in great force, under Hectbr 
McNeill. They were at Amy's Mill on Drowning Creek, 
and were emboldened by a knowledge of the fact that 
the main army was entirel}^ destitute of cavalry. Marion 
was not able to detach a force sufficient for their disper- 
sion, and it would have been fatal to his safety to suffer 
them to descend upon him while his detachments were 
abroad His first measures were to call in his scattered 



I, I F E OF DI A R I 5 N . 193 

parties. He then communicated to Greene the necessity of 
reinforcing him against his increasing enemies, and, in par- 
ticular, of addressing himself to the movements of McNeill, 
as he supposed them to be directed, in part, against the 
country between the Waccamaw and the sea-coast, which 
had never been ravaged, and which, at this time, held abun- 
dance of provisions. To this communication Greene re 
plies : " I have detached Major Anderson with one thou- 
sand regulars, and one hundred Virginia militia, to attack 
and disperse the Tories' at Amy's Mill, on Drowning Creek. 
The party marched yesterday with orders to endeavor to 
surprise them ; perhaps you might be able to make some 
detachment that would contribute to their success. . . 
I wish your answer respecting the practicability of surpris- 
ing the party near Nelson's ; the route, and force you 
will be able to detach. This inquiry is a matter that re- 
quires great secrecy." Another letter of Greene's, three 
days after (January 22d), refers to some " skirmishes be- 
tween your people and the enemy, which," says Greene, 
' do them honor," — but of which we have no particulars. 
The same letter begs for a supply of horses. " Get as 
many as you can, and let us have fifteen or twenty sent to 
camp without loss of time, they being wanted for immedi- 
ate service." By another letter, dated the day after the 
preceding, Greene communicates to Marion the defeat of 
larleton by Morgan, at the celebrated battle of the Cow- 
pens. " On the 17th at daybreak, the enemy, consisting of 
eleven hundred and fifty British troops and fifty militia, 
attacked General Morgan, who was at the Cowpens, be- 
tween Pacoletand Broad rivers, with 290 infantry, eighty 
cavalry and about six hundred militia. The action lasted 
fifty minutes and was remarkably severe. Our brave- troopi 
charged th^ eneni}^ with bayonets and entirely routed them 
killing nearly one hundred and fifty, wounding upwards of 



194 LIFE OF MARION. 

two hundred, and taking more than five hundred prisoners, 
exclusive of the prisoners with two pieces of artillery, 
thirty-five wagons, upwards of one hundred dragoon horses, 
and with the loss of only ten men .dlled and fifty-five 
wounded. Our intrepid party pursued the enemy upwards 
of twenty miles. About thirty commissioned officers are 
among the prisoners. Col, Tarleton had his horse killed 
and was wounded, but made his escape with two hundred 
of his troops." 

Before receiving this grateful intelligence Marion had been 
joined by Lieut. -Col. Lee, at the head of a legion which 
acquired high reputation for its spirit and activity during 
the war. Lee tells us that it was no easy matter to find 
our partisan. "An officer, with a small party, preceded 
Lee a few days' march to find out Marion, who was known 
to vary his position in the swamps of the Pedee ; sometimes 
in South Carolina, sometimes in North Carolina, and some- 
times on the Black river. With the greatest difficulty did 
this officer learn how to communicate with the brigadier ; and 
that by the accident of hearing among our friends on the south 
side of the Pedee, of a small provision party of Marion's 
being on the same side of the river. Making himself known 
to this party he was conveyed to the general, who had 
changed his ground since his party left him, which occasioned 
many hours' search even before his own men could find him."* 

This anecdote illustrates the wary habits of our par- 
tisan, and one of the modes by which he so successfully baf- 
fled the numerous and superior parties who were dispatch- 
ed in his pursuit. We have given, elsewhere, from Col. 
Lee's memoirs, a brief description of Marion and his mode 
of warfare, taken from the appendix to that woik. But 
another occurs, in the text before us, which, as it is brief, 
differing somewhat in phrase, and somewhat more com])re- 
hensiv^, than the former, will no doubt contribute to 
• Lre's AT^n^oi,-^^ vol. i. pp. 164. 



L I F E P M A R I N . 195 

the value aid interest of our narrative. " Marion,"' 
says Lee, '' was about forty-eight years of age, small 
in stature, hard in visage, healthy, abstemious and taci- 
turn. Enthusiastically w^edded to the cause of liberty, 
he deeply deplored the doleful condition of his beloved 
country. The common weal was his sole object ; nothing 
selfish, nothing mercenary soiled his ermine character 
Fertile in stratagem, he struck unperceived, and retiring to 
those hidden retreats selected by himself, in the morasses 
of Pedee and Black river, he placed his corps, not only 
out of the reach of his foe, but often out of the discovery of 
his friends. A rigid disciplinarian, he reduced to practice the 
justice of his heart ; and during the difficult course of warfare 
though which he passed calumny itself never charged him 
with molesting the rights of person, property or humanity. 
Never avoiding danger, he never rashly fought it ; and, 
acting for all around him as he did for himself, he risked 
the lives of his troops only when it was necessary. Never 
elated with prosperity, nor depressed by adversity, he 
preserved an equanimity which won the admiration of his 
friends and exalted the respect of his enemies."* 

Such were Lee's opinions of the partisan, to whose as- 
sistance he was dispatched by Greene, with his legion, 
consisting of near three hundred men, horse and foot. 

The junction of Lee's troops with those of Marion- led 
to the enterprise which the other had long since had at 
Heart, the capture of the British garrison at Georgetown. 
Georgetown was a small village, the situation and import- 
ance of which have already been described. The garrison 
consisted of two hundred men commanded by C.»lonel 
Campbell. His defences in front were slight, and not cal- 
culated to resist artillery. " Between these defences and 
the town and contiguous to each, was an enclosed work 
* Lee';; Memoirs, vol. ii. p. 164. 



196 LIFE OP .IAS ION. 

with a frieze and palisade, which constituted his chief 
protection."* It was held by a subaltern guard. "The 
rest of the troops were dispersed in light parties in and 
near the town, and looking towards the country." It was 
planned by the assailants to convey a portion of their force 
secretly down the Pedee, and land their, in the water suburb of 
ihetown, which, being deemed secure, was left unguarded. 
This body was then to move in two divisions. The first 
was to force the commandant's quarters — the place of 
parade — to secure him, and all others who might flock 
thither on the alarm. The second was designed to inter- 
cept such of the garrison as might endeavor to gain the 
fort. The partisan militia, and the cavalry of the legion, 
led by Marion and Lee in person, were to approach the 
place in the night, to lie concealed, and when the entrance 
of the other forties into the town should be announced, 
they were to penetrate to their assistance, and put the 
finishing stroke to the affair. 

The plan promised well, but the attempt was only par- 
tially successful. Captain Carnes, with the infantry of the 
legion, in boats, dropped down the Pedee, sheltered from 
discovery by the deep swamps and dense forests which 
lined its banks, until he reached an island at its mouth 
within a few miles of Georgetown. Here he landed, and 
lay concealed during the day. The night after, Marion 
and Lee proceeded to their place of destination, which 
they reached by twelve o'clock, when, hearing the ex 
pected signal, they rushed into the town, Marion leading 
his militia, and Lee his dragoons, prepared to bear down 
all opposition ; but they found all the work already over 
which it was in the power of the present assailants to 
attempt. The two parties of infantry, the one led by Caraes 
the other by Rudolph, had reached their places, but per- 
haps not in good season. The surprise was incomplete- 
* Lee, vol. i, p. 249.. 



LIFE OF M ARI i'J . 197 

They delayed too long upon the way, instead of pushing 
up directly upon the redoubt. They were also delayed by 
the desire of securing the person of the commandant— an 
unimportant coDsideration, in comparison with the strong- 
hold of the garrison, which, assailed vigorously at the first 
alarm, must have fallen into their hands. The command- 
ant was secured, and Carnes judiciously posted his divi- 
sion for seizing such parties of the garrison as might flock 
to the parade-ground. Rudolph had also gained his 
appointed station in the vicinity of the fort, and so distri- 
buted his corps as to prevent all communication with it. 
But this was not probably achieved with sufficient rapidity, 
and the garrison was strengthening itself while the Ameri- 
cans were busy in catching Campbell, and cutting down 
the fugitives. When Marion and Lee appeared, there 
was nothing to be done — no enemy to be seen. Not a 
British soldier appeared on parade — no one attempted 
either to gain the fort or repair to the commandant. The 
troops of the garrison simply hugged their respective quar- 
ters, and barricaded the doors. The assailants were un 
provided with the necessary implements for battering or 
bombarding. The fort was in possession of the British, 
and daylight was approaching. And thus this bold and 
brilliant attempt w^as baffled— it is difiScult, at this time of 
day, to say how. Lee was dissatisfied with the result. 
Marion, more modestly, in a letter to Greene, says : " Col. 
Lee informed you yesterday, by express, of our little suc- 
cess on Georgetown, which could not be greater without 
artillery." Lee says : " Jf, instead of placing Rudolph's 
division to intercept the fugitives, it had been ordered to 
carry the fort by the bayonet, our success would have 
been complete. The fort taken, and the commandant a 
prisoner, we might have availed ourselves of the cannon, 
an(i have readily demolished every obstacle and shelter.^ 



198 LIFE OF MARION. 

There were probably several causes combined, which baf- 
fled the perfect success of the enterprise : the guides are 
said to have blundered ; there was too much time lost in 
capturing Cainpbell, and probably in the prosecution of some 
private revenges. A circuitous route was taken by Carnes, 
when a direct one might have been had, by which his 
entrance into the town was delayed until near daylight ; 
and, by one account, the advance of Marion and Lee was 
not in season. The simple secret of failure was probably 
a want of concert between the parties, by which the Bri- 
tish had time to recover from their alarm, and put them- 
selves in a state of preparation. Many of the British were 
killed, few taken ; among the former was Major Irvine, 
w^ho was slain by Lieut. Cryer, whom, on a former occa- 
sion, he had subjected to a cruel punishment of five hun- 
dred lashes. Lieut. -Col. Campbell was sullered to remain 
on parole. 

Though failing of its object, yet the audacity which 
marked the enterprise, and the partial success of the attempt, 
were calculated to have their effect upon the fears of the 
enemy. It was the first of a series of movements against 
their several fortified posts, by which their power was tc 
be broken up in detail. Its present effect was to discour- 
age the removal of forces from the seaboard to the interior, 
to prevent any accession of strength to the army of Corn- 
wallis, who now, roused by the defeat of Tarleton, was 
rapidly pressing, with aL his array, upon the heels of 
Morgan. The American plan of operations, of which 
this coup de main constituted a particular of some impor- 
tance, had for its object to keep Cornwallis from Virginia — 
to detain him in South Carolina until an army of sufficient 
strength could be collected for his overthrow. This plaii 
had been the subject of much earnest correspondence be- 
tween Greene Marion, and others of the American officers 



LIFE OF MARION. 199 

That part of it which contemplated the conquest of George- 
town harmonized immediately with the long cherished 
objects of our partisan 

Halting but a few hours to rest their troops, Marion and 
Lee, after the attempt on Georgetown, moved the same 
day directly up the north bank of the Santee towards 
Nelson's Feny. Their object was the surprise of Col. 
Watson, who had taken post there. But, though the march 
was conducted with equal caution and celerity, it became 
known to the threatened party. Watson, consulting his 
fears, did not wait to receive them ; but,throwing a garrison 
of about eighty men into Fort Watson, five miles above 
the ferry, hurried off to Camden. 

Upon the defeat of Tarleton by Morgan, General Greene 
hastened to put himself at the head of the force conducted 
by the latter, which was then in full flight before the su- 
perior army of Cornwallis. Orders from Greene to Lee 
found him preparing for further co-operations with Marion, 
which they arrested. Lee was summoned to join the 
comniander-m-chief with his whole legion, and Marion was 
thus deprived of the further use, which he so much 
coveted, of the Continentals. Eut this diminution of forcedid 
not lessen the activity of the latter. On the 29th Januar}", 
he sent out two small detachments of thirty men each, under 
Colonel and Major Postell, to strike at the smaller British 
posts beyond the Santee. These parties were successful 
m several affairs. A great quantity of valuable stores 
were burnt at Manigault's Ferry, and in the vicinity. At 
Keithfield, near Monk's corner. Major Postell captured 
forty of the British regulars without the loss of a man 
Here also fourteen baggage wagons, with all their stores, 
were committed to the flames. The proceedings of 
these parties, conducted with caution and celerity, were 
exceedingly successful. In giving his instructions to th^ 



?00 LIFE OF MARION. 

officers entru'ited with these duties, Marion \\ rites — " You 
will consider provisions of all kinds British property. The 
destruction of all the British stores in the above-mentioned 
places, is of the greatest consequence to us, and only re- 
quires boldness and expedition." 

About this time Marion organized four new companies 
of cavalry. This proceeding was prompted by the 
scarcity of ammunition. His rifles were comparatively 
useless, and the want of powder and ball rendered it 
necessary that he should rely upon some other weapons. 
To provide broadswords for his troops, he was compelled 
once more to put in requisition the mill saws of the country, 
and his blacksmiths were busy in manufacturing blades, 
w hich, as we are told by a co«ntemporary, v*'ere sufficiently 
keen and heavy to hew a man down at a blow. This body 
of cavalry he assigned to the command of Col. P. Horry 
Horry was an admirable infantry officer. His ability to 
manage a squadron of cav^alry was yet to be ascertained. 
He labored under one disqualification, as he plainly tells us 
in his own manuscript He was not much of a horseman. 
But he had several excellent officers under him. As the 
brigade was not strong enough to allow of the employment, 
in body, of his whole command, its operations were com- 
monly by detachment. The colonel, at the head of one of 
his parties consisting of sixty men, had soon an opportunity 
of testing his capacity and fortune in this new command 
We glean the adventure from his own manusryipt. He 
was sent to the Waccamaw to reconnoitre and drive olT 
some cattle. After crossing Socastee swamp, a famous 
resort for the Tories, he heard of a party of British oragoons 
under Colonel Campbell. Horry's men had fo'uid a fme 
English charger hid in a swamp. This he was prevailed 
upon to mount, in order to spare his own. It so happened 
somewhat unfortunately for him, that he did so witii aa 



LIFEOF MARION. 20 1 

ent'my at hand. With his own horse he was .sufficiently 
familiar to escape Ordinary accidents. It will be seen that 
he incurred some risks with the more spirited quadruped. 
His patrol had brought in a negro, whom he placed under 
guard. He had in his command a Captain Clarke, who 
knowinoj the neojro, set him free durinoj the niffht. '^ Reader "* 
says our colonel, w^ith a serenity that is delightful, " be- 
hold a militia captain releasing a prisoner confined by his 
colonel commandant, and see the consequence !" The 
negro fell into the hands of the British, and conducted them 
upon the steps of our partisan. It so happened that the 
same Captain Clarke, who seems to have been a sad simple- 
ton, and something of a poltroon, had been sent in front 
with five horsemen as an advanced guard. Near the great 
Waccamaw road, the bugles of the British were heard 
sounding the charge. Horry was fortunately prepared for 
the enemy, but such was not the case with Clarke. He 
confounded the martial tones of the bugle with the sylvan 
notes of the horn. " Stop,'' says our militia ca'ptain, to 
his men — " stop, and you will see the deer, dogs and hunts- 
men, as they vToss the road." He himself happened to be 
the silly deer. The huntsmen ' were upon him in a few 
moments, and he discovered his mistake only when their 
broadswords were about his ears. He was taken, but 
escaped. A short encounter followed between Campbell 
and Horry, in which the former was worsted. Six of his 
men fell at the first fire, three slain, and as many wound- 
ed. Horry's pieces were common shot guns, and the only 
shot that he had were swan shot, or the mischief would 
have been greater. Campbell's horse was killed under 
him, and he narrowly escaped. Horry was dismounted in 
the encounter, — in what manner we are not told, — and 
would have been cut down by a British sergeant, but for 
his wearnig a uniform that resembled that of a British 
coloKel. He was helped to a horse at amost fortunata 



202 LIFE OF M A Pv 1 ^ . 

moment. He clld not know, in consequence of the blunder 
of Clarke, that the dragoons whom he had fought and 
beaten, were only an advanced guard of a body of infantry.* 
Horses and men were in his hands, and, dividing his force, 
he sent off one party of his men in charge of the prisoners 
and trophies. A sudden attack of the British infantry took 
the small party which remained with him totally by sur- 
prise. They broke and left him almost alone, with nothing 
but his small sword in his hand. It was at this moment 
that a brave fellow oi the second regiment, named ISIc 
Donald, yielded his own pony to his commander, by which 
lie escaped? McDonald saved himself by darting into the 
neighboring swamp. The British, dreading an ambuscade, 
did not pursue, and Horry rallied his men, and returned, 
with a reinforcement sent by Marion, to the scene of battle ; 
but the enemy had left it and retired to Georgetov/n, 
Horry proceeded to Sand Hill, where, finding himself in 
good quarters, among some rich and friendly Whigs, living 
well on their supplies, he proceeded to entrench himself in 
a reo'ular redoubt. But from this imposing situation 
Marion soon and sensibly recalled him. " He wrote me," 
says Horry, ^' that the open field was our play — that the 
enemy knew better how to defend forts and entrenched 
places than we did, and that if we attempted it, we should 
soon fall into their hands." Marion's farther instructions 
were to join him immediately, with every man that he 
could bring, for that it was his purpose to attack the enemy 
as soon as possible. Horry admits that he quitted his redoubt 
and good fare very reluctantly. He set out with eighty 
men, but when he joined ms commander in Lynch's Creek 
Swamp, they were reduced to eighteen. It seems that 
his force had been made up in part of new recruits, who 
had but lately joined themselves to Marion. Horry calls 
^iiem *' wi d Tories or half-^'^sade new Whigs — volunteers 



LIFE OF' MARION 203 

nssurecll}', not to fight, but plunder, — who would run at 
Ww sight of tlie enemy." His recent surprise and danger 
had rendered the colonel sore. It was on this occasion, 
that, as we have already related, he was nearly drowned, 
and only saved by clinging to the impending branches of a 
tree. 

While Horry was skirmishing with Campbell, Major 
John Postell, who was stationed to guard the lov/er part of 
the Pedee, succeeded in capturing Captain Depeyster, with 
twenty-nine grenadiers. Depeyster had taken post in the 
dwelling-house of Postell 's father. The latter had with him 
but twenty-eight militia, but he knew the grounds, and 
gaining possession of the kitchen, fired it, and was pre- 
paring to burn the house also, when Depeyster submitted. 

We find, at this time, a correspondence of Marion 
with two of the British officers, in relation to the de- 
tention, as a prisoner, of Captain Postell, who, it seems, 
though bearing a flag, was detained for trial by the ene- 
my. Portions of these letters, in which Marion asserts 
his ov.m humanity in the treatment of prisoners, we quote 
as exhibiting his ov/n sense, at least, of v/hat was the true 
character of his conduct in such matters. The reader will 
net have forgotten the charges made against him, in this 
respect, in an earlier part of this volume by Lt.-Coi. Balfour, 
in a letter to General Moultrie. One of the present letters 
of Marion is addressed to Balfour. 

" I am sorry to complain of the ill treatment my officers 
and men meet with from Captain Saunders. The officers 
are closely confined in a small place where they can neither 
stand nor lie at length, nor havethey more than half rations. 
[ have treated your officers and nr en who have fallen into 
my hands, in a different manner. Should these evils not 
be prevented in future, it will not oe in my power to pre- 
vent retaliation Lord Rawdon and Col. Watson have 



204 LIFE OF AIARION. 

Hanged ihtee men of my brigade for supposed crime? 
which will make as many of your men, in my hands, suffer.'' 

Again, on the same subject, in a letter to Col. Watson — 
^' The hanging of prisoners and the violation of my Hag, 
will be retaliated if a stop is not put to such proceedings, 
which are disgraceful to all civilized nations. All of ^our 
officers and men, who have fallen into my hands, have been 
treated with humanity and tenderness, and 1 wish sincerely 
that 1 may not be obliged to act contrary to my inclination." 

The British /officers thus addressed, alleged against 
Postell that he had broken his parole. If this were so, it 
was a just cause of detention ; but it will be remem- 
bered that the British themselves revoked these paroles on 
the assumption that the province vvas conquered, and when, 
as citizens, they wished to exact military service from the 
people. In these circumstances the virtue of the obligation 
was lost, and ceased on the part of the citizen, because of 
the violation on the part of the conqueror, of the immuni- 
ties which he promised. Marion took decisive measures 
for compelling the necessary respect to his flag, by seizijig 
upon Captain Merritt, the bearer of a British flag, and put- 
ting him in close keeping as a security for Postell. We 
do not know that he retaliated upon the British soldieis 
the cruel murders, by hanging, which had been practised 
upon his own. His nature would probably recoil from 
carrying his own threat into execution. In answer to one 
of Marion's reproaches, we are told by Col. Watson, :hat 
*' the burning of houses and the property of the inhabitants, 
who are our enemies, is customary in all civilized nations." 
The code of civilisation is certainly susceptible of liberal 
constructions. Its elasticity is not the least of its marjr 
merits. 

Cornwallis pursued Greene into North Carolina, and 
after much manoeuvering between tl e armies, they met al 



LIFE OF MARION. 205 

Guilford on the 15th of March, 1781. Th(3 honors of the 
victory, small as it was, lay with the British. Their loss, 
however, was such, that the advantages of the field enur- 
ed to the Americans. From this field, Cornwailis took 
his way to Virginia, and his career as a commander in 
America was finally arrested at the siege of York. During 



the absence of Greene from South Carolina, Marion's was 
the only force in active operation against the British. An 
opportunity so favorable for harassing and distressing the 
enemy, as that afforded by the absence of their main army 
m IS^orth Carolina, w^as not neglected ; and, calling in his 
detachments, he once more carried dismay into the heart 
of the Tory settlements, on both sides ot the Santee. His 
incursions, and those of his officers, were extended as far 
as the confluence of the Congaree and Wateree, and as low 
down as Monk's Corner, — thus breaking up the line of 
communication between Charleston and the grand army, 
and intercepting detachments and supplies, sent from that 
place to the line of posts established through the country 
This sort of warfare, which seldom reaches events such as 
those which mark epochs in the progress of great bodies 
of men, is yet one which calls for constant activity. We 
have details of but few of the numerous conflicts which 
t«)ok place between our partisan and the Tory leaders 
These were scattered over the country, living by plunder, 
and indulging in every species of ferocity. Greene writes, 
*' The Whigs and Tories are continually out in small parties, 
and all the middle country is so disaffected, that you can- 
not lay in the most trifling magazine or send a wagon 
through the country with the least article of stores without 
a guard." In addressing himself to this sort of warfare, 
Marion was pursuing a course of the largest benefit to the 
country. In overawing these plunderers, subduing the 
savage spirit, and confining the British to their strong 



30f> L I F E OF M A R I O N . 

places, he was acquiring an importance, which, if v/e are 
to est'mate the merits of a leader only by the magnitude of 
his" victories, will leave us wholly at a loss to know by 
what means his great reputation was acquired. But the 
value of his services is best gathered from the effect v/hich 
they had upon the enemy. The insults and vexations 
which he unceasingly occasioned to the British, were not 
to be borne ; and Col. Watson was dispatched with a se- 
lect force of five hundred men to hunt him up and destroy 
him. We have seen Tarleton and others eno;ajred in the 
pursuit, but without success. Watson was destined to be 
less fortunate. In the meanwhile, and before Watson came 
upon his trail, Col. Peter Horry had been engaged in a 
series of petty but rather amusing skirmishes, in the 
neighborhood of Georgetown. A party of the British were 
en2:a2:ed in killino; beeves at White's bridsre near Georcre- 
town. Horry's men charged them while at this employ- 
ment, and killing some, pursued the rest towards that place. 
The firing was heard in the town, and the facts of the case 
conjectured. This brought out a reinforcement, before 
which the detachment of Horry was compelled to retreat 
But, on gaining the woods, they were joined also by their 
friends ; and the fight was resumed between the Sampit 
and Black river roads, with a dogged fierceness on both 
sides, that made it particularly bloody. In the course of 
the struggle, Horry at one moment found himself alone 
His men were more or less individually engaged, and 
scattered through the woods around him. His only wea- 
pon was his small sword. In this situation he was sud- 
denly assailed by a Tory captain, named Lewis, at the head 
of a small party. Lewis was armed with a musket, and 
.n tie act of firing, when a sudden shot from the woods 
tumjled him from his horse, in the very moment when his 
own ffun was discharged. The bullet of Lewis took eff<?ct 




o 



o 

p 

o 
0; 



LIFE OF MARION. 207 

m Horr^' 's horse. The shot which sc seasonably slew 
the Tory, had been sent by the hands of a boy named 
Gwin. The party of Lewis, apprehending an ambush, 
immediately fell back and put themselves in cover. The 
conflict lasted through the better part of the day, one side 
gaining ground, and now the other. It closed in the fina' 
defeat of the enemy, who were pursued with a savage and 
unsparing spirit. One half of their number were left dead 
upon the ground. Their leader was Major Gaine}'-. 
Great expectations were formed of his ability to cope with 
Marion On this occasion, though he made his escape, 
his mode of doing so was characterized by a peculiar cir- 
cumstance, which rendered it particularly amusing to one 
side and annoying to the other. He was singled out in the 
chase by Sergeant McDonald, a fierce young fellow, who 
was admirably mounted. Gainey v/as fortunate in being 
well mounted also, McDonald, regarding but the one 
enemy, passed all others. He himself said that he could 
have slain several in the chase. But he wished for no 
meaner object than their leader. One man alone who 
threw himself in the way of the pursuit became its victim. 
Hun he shot down, and, as they went at full speed down 
the Black river road, at the corner of Richmond fence, 
the sergeant had gained so far upon his enemy, as to be 
able to plunge his bayonet into his back. The steel sepa 
rated hom his gun, and,with no time to extricate it, Gainey 
rushed into Georgetown, with the weapon still conspi- 
cuously showing how close and eager had been the 
^hase, and how narrow the escape. The wound v/as not^ 
fatal. 

The next affair was with Col. Tynes, who had been de- 
feated by Marion some time before, made prisoner and sent 
to North Carolina. But the North Carolina jailors seem 
^o have been pretty generally Tories, fi "ve find Horrv 



^08 LIFE OF M A R I i> N . 

complaining that they discharged the prisoners quite as fast 
as they were sent there ; and it was the complaint of some 
of Marion's officers that they had to fight the same persons 
in some instances, not less than three or fom- times. Tynes 
had collected a second force, and, penetrating the forests of 
Black river, was approaching the camp of our partisar. 
Marion went against him, fell upon him suddenly, com- 
pletely routed him, taking himself and almost his whole 
party prisoners. He made his escape a second time from 
North Carolina, and with a third and larger force than ever, 
re-appeared in the neighborhood of Marion's camp. Horry 
was sent against him with forty chosen horsemen. He 
travelled all night, and stopped the next day at the house 
of a Tory, where he obtained refreshments. His men suc- 
ceeded in obtaining something more. The Tory most lib- 
erally filled their canteens with apple-brandy ; and when 
the Colonel got within striking distance of Tynes and his 
Tories, scarcely one of his troops was fit for action. He 
prudently retreated, very much mortified with the transac- 
tion. Marion captured a part of Tynes' force a few days 
after, and this luckless loyalist seems to have disappeared 
from the field from that moment. 

Watson's march against Marion was conducted with 
g^reat caution. The operations of the partisan, meanwhib, 
were continued without interruption. About the middle 
of February, he was apprised of the march of IMajor Mc- 
Ilraith from Nelson's Ferry, at the head of a force fully 
equal to his own. This British officer seems to have been 
singularly unlike his brethren in some remarkable particu- 
lars. He took no pleasure in burning houses, the hospitality 
of which he had enjoyed ; he destroyed no cattle wantonly, 
and hung no unhappy prisoner. The story goes that while 
Marion was pressing upon the steps of the enemy, he 
paused at the house of a venerable lady who had been 



LIFE OF MARION 209 

al ivays a friend to the Whigs, and who noM declared her 
unhappiness at seeing him Her reason being asked, 
she declared that she con^ctured his purpose — that he was 
pursuing Mcllraith, and that so honorable and gentle had 
been the conduct of that officer, on his march, that she was 
really quite unwilling that he should suffer harm, though 
an enemy. What he heard did not impair Marion's activ- 
ity/, but it tended somewhat to subdue those fiercer feelings 
which ordinarily governed the partisans in that sanguinary 
warfare. He encountered and assailed Mcllraith on the 
road near Half-way Swamp, first cutting off two picquets 
in his rear in succession, then wheeUng round his main 
body, attacked him at the same moment in flank and front 
Mcllraith was without cavalry, and his situation was per- 
ilous in the extreme. But he was a brave fellow, and 
Marion had few bayonets. By forced marches and con- 
stant skirmishing, the British major gained an open field 
upon the road. He posted himself within the enclosure 
upon the west of the road. Marion pitched his camp or. 
the edge of a large cypress pond, which lay on the east, 
and closely skirted the highway. Here Mcllraith sent 
him a flag, reproaching him with shooting his picquets, con- 
trary, as he alleged, to all the laws of civilized warfare, and 
concluded with defying him to combat in the open field. 
The arguments of military men, on the subject of tb« laws 
of civilized warfare, are sometimes equally absurd and im • 
pertment. Warfare itself is against all the laws of civiliza 
tion, and there is something ludicrous in the stronger re 
proaching the feebler power, that it should resort to such 
means as are in its possession, for reconciling the inequalities 
offeree between them. Marion's reply toMcIlraith was suf- 
ficiently to the purpose. He said that the practice of the 
British in burning the property of tlfose who would not sub- 
mit and join them, was much more indefensible than thai 
14 



210 LIFE OF MARION. 

of shooting picquets, and that while they persisted in tli«» 
one practice, he should certainly persevere in the other 
As to the challenge of Mcllraith, he said that he considered 
it that of a man whose condition was desperate ; but con- 
cluded with saying that if he, Mcllraith, wished to witness 
a combat between twenty picked soldiers on each side, he 
was not unwiUing to gratify him. 

Here was a proposal that savored something of chivalry. 
Mcllraith agreed to the suggestion, and an arrangemen* 
was made for a meeting. The place chosen for the com- 
bat was in a part of a field, which is very well known, 
south of an old oak tree, which was still, up to the year 
1821, pointed out to the stranger. It may be standing to 
this day, for the oak outlasts many generations of brave 
men. Marion chose for the leader of his band. Major John 
Vanderhorst, then a supernumerary officer in his brigade. 
The second in command was Capt. Samuel Price, of All 
Saints. The names of the men were WTitten on slips of 
paper and handed to them severally. Gavin Witherspoon 
received the first. The names of the others are not pre- 
served. Not one of them refused. When they were sepa- 
rated from their comrades, they were paraded near the 
fence, and Marion addressed them in the following lan- 
guage : 

"My brave soldiers! you are twenty men picked this 
day out of my whole brigade. I know you all, and have 
often witnessed your bravery. In the name of your coun- 
try, I call upon you once more to show it. My confidence 
in you is great. I am sure Jt will not be disappointed. 
Fight like men, as you have always done — and you are 
sure of the victory." 

The speech was short, but it was eflfectual. It was, per- 
haps, a long one for Marion. His words were usually few, 
but they were always to the purpose. More words wero 



HFEOF MARION. 2H 

unnecessary here. The combatants heard him with pride, 
and hailed his exhortations with apjifause. While their 
cheers were loudest, Marion transferred them to their 
leader. 

Vanderhorst now asked Witherspoon, " at what dis» 
tance he would prefer, as the most sure to strike with buck* 
shot ?" 

" Fifty yards, for the first fire," was the answer. 

" Then," said Vanderhorst, " when we get within fifty 
yards, as lam not. a good judge of distances, Mr. Wither- 
spoon will tap me on the shoulder. I will then <give the 
word, my lads, and you will form on my left opposite these 
fellows. As you form, each man will fire at the one di- 
rectly opposite, and my word for it, few will need a second 
shot'." 

Nothing, mdeed, was more certain than this ; and how 
Mcllraith proposed to fight with any hope of the result, 
knowing how deadly was the aim of the Americans, is be- 
yond conjecture. If he relied upon the bayonet, as Der- 
haps he did, his hope must have rested only upon those 
who survived the first fire ; and with these, it was only ne- 
cessary for the Americans to practise the game of the sur- 
vivor of the Horatii, in order to gain as complete a victory. 
They had but to scatter and re-load — change their ground, 
avoid the push of the bayonet, till they could secure a se- 
cond shot, and that certainly would have finished the busi- 
ness. But Mcllraith had already reconsidered the pro- 
ceeding. His men were formed in a straight line in front 
of the oak. Vanderhorst was advancing and had got within 
one hundred yards, when a British officer was seen to pass 
hurriedly to the detachment, and the next moment the men 
retreated, with a quick step, towards the main bc>dy. Van* 
derhorst and li:« party gave three huzzas, but not a shot 
WRS fired 



212 LIFEOFMARIOIN. 

Mcllraith committed two errors. Ke should not have 
made the arrangement, but, once made, he should have suf- 
fered it to go on at all hazards. The effect was discredita 
ble to himself, and detrimental to the efficiency of his men 
Marion would have fought his enemy all day on the same 
terms. His followers were on their own ground, with a 
familiar weapon, while the soldiers of the British were de- 
prived of all their usual advantages — the assurance of sup- 
port after the fire of the enemy was drawn. The militia 
seldom stood the encounter of the bayonet, but they as 
seldom failed to do famous execution with the first two or 
three discharges. 

That night Mcllraith abandoned his heavy baggage, left 
fires burning, and retreating silently from the ground, hur- 
ried, with all dispatch, along the river road towards Sin- 
gleton's Mills,, distant ten miles. Marion discovered the 
retreat before daylight, and sent Col. Hugh Horry forward 
with one hundred men, to get in advance of him before he 
should reach the mill. But Horry soon found this to be 
impossible, and he detached Major James, at the head of 
a select party, well mounted on the swiftest horses, with 
instructions to cross the mill-pond above, and take posses- 
sion of Singleton's houses. These standing on a high hill, 
commanded a narrow defile on the road between the hill 
and the Wateree swamp. James reached the house as 
the British advanced to the foot of the hill. But here he 
found a new enemy, which his foresters dreaded much more 
than the British or Tories — the small-pox. Singleton's 
family were down with it, and James shrank from availing 
himself of any advantage offered by the situation. But 
before he retired, one of his men, resting his rifle against a 
tree, shot the officer of the British advance. He was 
mortally wounded, and died the next day. Marion was 
displeased with this achievement. The forbearance q< 



LIFE OF MARION 



213 



M.Hraith, while passing through the country, had touch- 
ed his heart. He withdrew his forces, not displeased that 
his enemy had secured a stronghold in Singleton's Mill 
The conscientiousness of the British officer is said to have 
incurred the displeasure of his commander, and that of his 
brother officers. When he reached Charleston he was put 
into Coventry. Our authorities ascribe this to his gratui- 
tous humanity, his reluctance to burn and plunder, with such 
excellent examples before him, as Cornwallis and Tarle- 
ton. We rather suspect, however, that it was in conse- 
quence of the unfortunate issue of the |)itched battle, as 
agreed upon between himself and Marion ; a more proba- 
ble cause of odium stiaong his comrades, than any reluc- 
tance, which he lAght ftjtpicsfly to violate the common laws 
of humanity. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Watson and Doyle pursue Marion. — He baffles and larassea 
them — Pursues Doyle. — His despondency, and final resolu- 
tion. 

The preparations of Col. Watson for pursuing and 
destroying our partisan in his stronghold, were at length 
Complete. He sallied forth from Fort Watson about the 
first of March, and, with a British regiment and a large 
body of loyalists — a force quite sufficient, as was thouo;ht, 
for the desired object — marched down the Santee, shaping 
his course for Snow's Island. At the same time. Col. 
Doyle, at the head of another British regiment, intended 
for co-operation with Watson, was directed to proceed by 
way of M'Callum's Ferry, on Lynch's, and down JefFers' 
Creek, to the Pedee. Here they were to form a junction. 

Marion had no force to meet these enemies in open 
combat. His number did not much exceed three hundred, 
but he had other resources of his own which better served 
to equalize them. Doyle's approach was slow, and it 
seems partially unsuspected. In fact, in order to meet hi? 
enemies, and make the most of his strengtL, Marion had 
gefteirally called in his scouting parties. Of Watson's 
movements he had ample information. His scouts, well 
provided with relays of horses, traversed the country be- 
tween his camp and Camden. Advised correctly of Wat- 
son's progress, he made one of those rapid marches foi 
which he was famous, and met him at Wiboo Swamp, 
about midway between Nelson's and Murray's ferries. 



LIFE OF MARION. 215 

At this place commenced a conflict as remarkable as it 
was protracted. The advance of Watson consisted of the 
Tory horse J under Col. Richbourg. Col. Peter Horry led 
IMarion's ^advance, consisting of about thirty men. The 
remainder of the brigade lay in reserve. The encounter 
of the two advanced parties produced a -mutual panic, 
both recoiling upon their main bodies ; but that of Horry 
was the first to recover; and the command to charge, 
given by Marion himself, produced the desired effect. 
Horry was at length driven back by Watson's regulars, and 
the field-pieces, which finally dislodged him. They were 
pursued by the Tory horse of Harrison, which, pressing 
upon the main body, gained some advantages ; and, in the 
uncertainty of the event, while there was some confusion, 
aflbrded an opportunity for several instances of great indi- 
vidual valor. As the column of Harrison pressed over the 
causeway, which was narrow, Gavin James, a private 
of great spirit and gigantic size, mounted on a strong 
grey horse, and armed with musket and bayonet, threw 
himself in advance of his comrades, and directly in the 
path of the enemy. Taking deliberate aim, he fired his 
piece, dropped his man, and drew a volley from those in 
front of him, not a shot of which took effect. His deter- 
mined position and presence, in the centre of the narrow 
causeway, produced a pause in the advance. A dragoon 
rushed upon him, and was stricken down by the bayonet. 
A second, coming to the assistance of his comrade, shared 
the same fate, but, in falling, laid hold of the muzzle of 
James' musket, and was dragged by him in the retreat 
Bome forty or fifty paces. This heroism was not w^ithout 
its effect. If the men of Marion faltered for a moment, 
such examples, and the voice of their general, re-invigor- 
ated then- courage. Capts. Macauley and Conyers, at the 
ht'in} of the cavalry, arrested the advance of the Tories 



216 LIFE OF MARION. 

and Harrison himself fell, mortally wounded, by the hands 
of Conyers. The Tories were dispersed, and sought shel- 
ter from the infantry of Watson, before the advance of 
which Marion deemed it prudent for the time to retire. 

Marion lost nothing by this meeting. Its effect upon 
the Tories was highly beneficial. They had suffered 
severely in killed and wounded, and were thus intimi 
dated at the outset. Watson encamped that night on the 
field of battle, and Marion a few miles below. The next 
morning the pursuit was resumed. Watson marched down 
the river, Marion keeping just suliiciently ahead of him to 
be able to post an ambuscade for him at the first point that 
seemed suitable for such a purpose. At Mount Hope, 
Watson had to build up the bridges, and sustain a second 
conflict with a chosen party of Marion's, led by Col. Hugh 
Horry. By bringing forward his field-pieces, and drilling 
the swamp, thickets with grape, he succeeded in expelling 
Horry, and clearing the way for his column. But the same 
game was to be renewed with every renewal of the oppor- 
tunity. 

When Watson drew near to Murray's Ferry, he passed 
the Kingstree road ; and, coming to that of Black river, 
vvhich crosses at the lower bridge, he made a feint of still 
cohtmuing along the Santee ; but soon after wheeled 
about, and took the former route. This manoeuvre might 
have deceived a less wary antagonist than Marion. He 
was soon aware of the enemy's intention. Detaching 
Major James, at the head of seventy men, thirty of whom 
were M'Cottry's rifles, he ordered him to destroy 
the bridge, and so post himself as to com.mand it. 
He himself kept his eye fixed upon Watson. This 
bridge was on the main pass to Williamsburg, and 
the men chosen for its defence were judiciously taken 
from that part of the country. It was naturally sup- 



LI F E OF MARION. 217 

posed chat, in sight of their cottage smokes, they would 
struggle manfully against the enemy's forces. 

James proceeded with great rapidity, and, avoiding thp 
road, crossed the river by a shorter route. He reached the 
bridge in time to throw down two of the middle arches, 
and to fire the string pieces at the eastern extremity. As 
soon as the chasm was made, he placed M'Cottry's rifle- 
men at the end of the bridge and on each side of the ford. 
The rest of his detachment were so stationed as to co- 
operate, when required, with their comrades. Marion 
arriving soon after, strengthened the force of James with 
the Pedee company under Captain Potts, and took pos* 
himself, with the main body, in the rear. These arrange- 
ments had scarcely been effected when Watson made his ap- 
pearance. At this place the west bank of the river is con- 
siderably higher than the east. The latter is low and 
somewhat swampy. On the west, the road passes to the 
Dridge through a ravine. The river was forty or fifty yards 
wide, and though deep, was fordable below the bridge. 
The ravine was commanded by M'Cottry's rifles. As soon 
as Watson approached the river, which he did from the 
west, his field-pieces opened upon the passage which con- 
ducted to the ford. But the position assigned to Marion's 
men, on the eastern side of the river, effectually protected 
them. To bring the field-pieces to bear upon the low 
grounds which they occupied, was to expose the artillerists, 
upon the elevated banks Which they occupied, to the de- 
liberate and fatal fire of the riflemen. Watson was soon 
made aware of the difficulties of the passage. Not a man 
approached within gun-shot that did not pay the penalty ot 
his rashness ; and those who drew nigh to succor or carry 
off the wounded, shared the same fate. It was determined 
to attempt the-ford, and the advance was put forward, as a 
forlorn hope, with this desperate purpos(?. The office/ 



21 S LIFEOF MARION. 

leading it, came on very gallantly, waving his sword aloft 
and loudly encouraging his men. His progress v/as fatally 
arrested by M'Cottry's rilie. The signal drew the fire 
of the riflemen and musketeers, with whom the banks were 
lined, and the heavy and deliberate discharge drove back 
and dispersed the British advance, nor did the reserve move 
forv/ard to its assistance. Four brave fellows attempted to 
carry off the otiicer who had fallen, but they remained with 
him. 

Watson was terrified. He was heard to say that '' he 
had never seen such shooting in his life." There was no 
effecting the passage in the face of such enemies, and steal- 
ing down to the banks of the river, on the side whicn they 
occupied, and wherever the woods afforded shelter, the 
British skirmished with Marion's flankers across the stream 
until night put an end to the conflict. 

The next morning Watson sent that dispatch to Marion 
which, from its lugubrious tenor, has acquired a degree of 
notoriety much greater than the name of the oflicer from 
whom it emanated. He complained to Marion of his modes 
of fighting, objected to the ambuscades of the partisan, 
and particularly complained that his picquets and sentinels 
should be shot down when they had no suspicion of danger. 
He concluded by urging upon Marion to come out and fight 
him like a gentleman and Christian, according to the laws. of 
civilized warfare. While the tone of the letter was thus 
lugubrious, its language was offensive. He applied to the 
partisans the epithets "banditti and murderers." Marion re- 
turned no answer to this precious document, but renewed 
[lis order to his nightly patrols, to shoot the sentinels and 
cut off the picquets as before. He thought the measure 
quite as legitimate in such a war, as the burning the house 
and hanging the son of the widow. 

But though Marion returned no answer by the flag, 



LIFE OF MARION. 219 

to ihe letter of Watson, there was a dispatch by one of the 
brigade, of a somewhat curious character. There was a 
sergeant in the brigade by the name of McDonald, of 
whom something has been heard before. He v/as the same 
bold fellow who had so closely pursued Major Gainey into 
Georgetown, leaving his bayonet in the possession and person 
of the latter. He was distinguished by his great coolness 
and courage, an extraordinary degpee of strength, and a cor- 
I'esponding share of agility. He was as notorious among the 
enemy for his audacity, as he was among his comrades for 
his great modesty and goodness of heart. It appears that 
among some of Watson's captures, while pressing hard 
upon our partisans, had been the entire wardrobe of Mc- 
Donald. The sergeant felt it as something more than a 
loss of property that his clothes should be taken by the 
enemy. It was a point of honor that he should recover 
them. His message to Watson was of this purport. He 
concluded with solemnly assuring the bearer of the flag, 
that if the clothes were not returned he would kill,eight of 
his men. Watson was furious at a message which in- 
creased the irritation of his late discomfiture. Knowing 
nothing himself of McDonald, he was disposed to treat 
the message with contempt ; but some of his officers, who 
knew better the person with whom they had to deal, beg- 
ged that the clothes of the sergeant might be returned to 
him, for that he would most certainly keep his word if 
they were not. Watson complied with the suggestion 
When the clothes appeared, McDonald said to the bearer, 
" Tell Col. W^atson, I will noM^ kill but four of his men." 
Two days after he shot Lieut. Torriano through the knee 
with a rifle, at a distance of three hundred yards. 

Marion, the next day, took post on a ridge below the 
ford of the river, which is still popularly called " The 
GeneraFs bland." His rilles still eiTectually commandet! the 



220 LIFE OF xM A R I N . 

passage and baffled every attempt of Watson to cross, 
l^ushing M'Cottry and Conyers ove: the river, they 
exercised themselves in cutting off his patroles and 
picquets. To save himself from these annoyances, Wat- 
son retreated a little higher up the river and pitch- 
ed his camp at JSlakeley's plantation, in the most open 
field that he could find. Here he remained for ten days 
almost environed by his adroit and active enemy. Night 
and day was he kept in a condition of alarm and apprehen- 
sion. The cavalry beat up his quarters when he slept, 
while the riflemen picked off his men the moment they 
exposed themselves. It was while he was in this situa- 
tion that the brave Capt, Conyers presented himself daily 
before the lines of the enemy, either as a single cavalier, or 
at the head of his troop, demanding an opponent. The 
anecdote has been already narrated in another chapter. 

The temper of Watson was very much subdued by this 
sort of warfare. His next letter to Marion was of very 
different tone from that sent but a few days before. He 
now solicits a pass from his enemy for Lieut. Torriano and 
others wounded, whom he desired to send to Charleston. 
This was promptly granted. Meanwhile he employed a 
negro from Chevin's plantation to carry a letter to the 
commandant at Georgetown. In endeavoring to make his 
way, the negro was killed and the letter fell into the hands 
of Marion. It contained a woful complaint of the unfair 
mode of fighting pursued by the partisans, and implored a 
reinforcement.* In fact Watson was literally besieged. 
His supplies were cut off, his progress arrested, and so 
many of his men perished in the continual skirmishing, that 
he is reported by tradition to have sunk them in Black nver 
in order to conceal their numbers. He was finally com- 
pelled to decamp. If his path wah beset with dangers, iJ 

*IIorry"s MS 



LIFE OF :•,! A R I () N 221 

was death to remain in his jjresent situation. Mukw^ a 
forced march down the Georgetown road, he paused when 
ht reached Ox swamp, six miles below the lower bridge 
His flight had Leen harassed by light parties of the Ameri- 
cans ; but here he found them prepared for, and awaiting 
him. The road througli which he was to pass, was skirt^ 
ed by a thick boggy swamp, and before him the causeway 
was covered with trees which had been felled to obstruct 
his passage. The bridges were destroyed, and Marion lay 
directly in his path, prepared for a final encounter. Wat- 
son shrank from the prospect, and determined upon another 
route. Wheeling to the right he dashed through the 
open pme woods, for the Santee road, about fifteen miles. 
When overtaken by Marion upon this road, his infantry 
were hurrying forward, like horses,at a full trot. But few 
natural obstacles attended his progress on this path, and 
the extraordinary rapidity of his flight had put him con- 
siderably ahead of his pursuers. But he was not yet to 
escape. The cavalry of Horry, and the riflemen of 
M'Cottry, galled him at every step in flank and rear. When 
he reached Sampit bridge a last skirmish took place, which 
might have terminated in the complete defeat of the ene- 
my, but for the cowardice of a Lieut. Scott, of Horry's de- 
tachment. Watson was attacked fiercely in the flank and 
rear by the whole force of Marion. His horse was killed, 
and his own life endangered. The affair was equally short 
and sharp, and had it not been that the ambush placed by 
Horry failed to discharge its duty, Watson would, in all 
probability, never have reached Georgetown, or only 
reached it on parole. He gained it finally in safety, thor- 
oughly harassed and discomfited by the subtle enemy whom 
iie had gone forth, with a superior force, and a confident 
hope, to destroy or capture. 

rat the sur :ess of our partisan against \^'atson did Dot 



222 LIFE OF MARION. 

necessarily dispose of his enemies. While he had been en- 
gaged in the events, as just given, Col. Doyle had succeed- 
ed in penetrating to his haunts o» Snow's Island. That 
famous retreat had been entrusted to a small body of men 
under the command of Col. Ervin. Ervin was defeated, 
and Doyle obtained possession of all Marion's stores. Arms 
and ammunition were emptied into Lynch's Creek, and 
this at a period, wheii every ounce of powder, and pound 
of shot, were worth, to our partisans, their weight in gold. 
It was while moving from Sampit towards Snow's Island, 
that Marion was apprised of this mortifying intelligence. 
It was a matter to be deplored certainly, but it was one of 
those events that could not have been prevented. The 
force of Marion was too small to euffer him to play the ad- 
mirable game, already described, with Watson, yet leave a 
sufficient body of men in ca^ip for its protection. He had 
only to console himself by taking his revenge, and he turned 
the head of his columns in pursuit of Doyle. This olficer 
made his way to Witherspoon's Ferry, on Lynch's Creek, 
where he lay in a good position on the north side of the 
Ferry. Marion approached him cautiously, with M'Cottry's 
mounted riflemen in advance. Arriving at the creek a 
detachment of the British was found on the opposite side, 
engaged in scuttling the ferry boat. The riflemen drew 
nigh unperceived, and poured in a well directed and deadly 
fire, which produced the utmost consternation. The fire 
was returned in volleys, but the limbs and branches of the 
trees suffered infinitely more than the riflemen who lay 
behind them. Marion now made his arrangements for 
crossino- the stream. But this was not to be done in the 
face of the enemy, with the creek before him wide and 
swollen. Marion moved rapidly up the creek, which he 
swam at the first favorable point some five miles above 



LIFE OF MARION. 223 

Wilherspoon's. This brought him nearer to Doyle's posi- 
tion, but the latter had not waited for him. Whether it 
was that he had little taste for the sort of annoyances to 
which Watson had been subjected, or that he had received 
instructions from Lord Rawdon to join him at Camden, in 
all haste, it is certain that he made the greatest speed in 
hurrying in that direction. 

It was at this period that Marion held a consultation 
with Horry, in which he is represented by that officer as 
in an unusual state of despondency. His enemies were ac- 
cumulating around him with unwonted rapidity, and in 
greater force than ever. Watson, furious at his late 
disasters, and mortified with the result of his confident an- 
ticipations, had sallied forth from Georgetown with a rein- 
forcement. He had gone towards the Pedee, where he 
strengthened himself with the large body of Tories which 
Gainey had commanded. Horry tells us of a third body 
of men at the same time in the field, with Doyle and 
Watson, and all addressing themselves to the same object, 
his utter expulsion from the country. At that moment the 
expulsion of our Partizan would leave the conquest of the 
State complete. 

In these emergencies, with these foes accumulating 
around him, the mind of Marion naturally addressed itself 
with more gravity than usual to the task of his extrication 
from his enemies. His countenance, as Horry describes 
it, was troubled. But, with his usual taciturnity, he said 
nothing on the subject of His anxieties. Seeing him walk- 
ing alone, and in deep revery, Horr;y approached him, and 
said — 

" General, our men are few, and, if what I hear be true, 
you never wanted them morQ,'' 

Marion star* td, and replied — 



224 LIFEOFMARION. 

" Go immediately to the field officers, and know from 
them, if, in the event of my being compelled to retire to^ 
the mountains, they will follow my fortunes, and with me 
carry on the war, until the enemy is forced out of ihe 
country. Go, and bring me their answer without delay.'" 

It was a peculiarity in Marion's character, that he should 
have entrusted such a commission to a subordinate. But 
it accords with all that we have seen of the reserve and 
shyness of his moods. The simple remark to Horry in- 
dicates his admirable firmness, his calculations, even of pos- 
sible necessities long in advance, and his instinctive mode 
of encountering them as he best might. His determination ^ 
on his own account, to carry on the war against the enemy 
n the mountains, till they or himself were expelled from 
the country, denotes the unsubmitting patriot. The reader 
must not forget that, at this moment, there was no force 
in the State but his own, arrayed against the British. 
Sumter was still hors de combat from his wound. The 
army of Greene, having with it Pickens, and other native 
partisans, together with a considerable force of native 
militia, was in North Carolina, watching the movements of 
CornwaUis. Lord Rawdon, with a strong British garrison, 
held Camden. Charleston and Georgetown, Ninety-Six and 
Granby, Forts Watson and Motte, were all held, with 
numerous other conspicuous points, by the British ; and 
with Watson, whose force now numbered a thousand men, 
Doyle half that number, and several active and large bodies 
of Tories prepared to co-operate with these against our 
partisan, the danger of Marion's situation, and his patri- 
otic resolve of character, are conspicuous at a glance. 

Horry sought the officers, and promptly returned to liis 
commander. To a man th^y had pledged themselves to 
follow his fortunes, however disastrous, while one of them 



LIFE OF AfARION. 225 

survived, and until their country was freed from the enemy. 
Marion's countenance instantly brightened — we cannot for- 
bear the use of Horry's own language, thou2:h it may pro- 
voke a smile — " he was tip-toed" — (i.e.) — he rose upon hia 
toes — and said " I am satisfied — one of these parties shall 
Boon feel us. '* 

♦ Horry's MS., pp. 59. 60 



io 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Mar '.on renews his pursim ol Doyle. — Confronts Watson.— Is 
joined by Col. Lee. — Invests and takes Fort Watson. — Fort 
Motte taken. — Anecdote of Horry and Marion. 

MariOxV instantly put his men in motion in pursuit of 
Doyle. In crossing the swamp of Lynch's Creek, during 
the night, several of the soldiers lost their arms, in conse- 
quence of the freshet. The swamp was inundated, and 
it required all their dexterity and promptitude to save 
themselves. Snatcliing a hasty breakfast, the pursuit was 
continued all day, and resumed the next m.orning until ten 
o'clock, when they found such signs of the superior speed 
and haste of the enemy, as to preclude all possibility of 
overtaking him. They had been necessarily delayed by 
the passage of the swamp, and had not made sufficient 
allowance for the speed with which an enemy might run 
when there was occasion for it. Here they found that 
Doyle had destroyed all his heavy baggage, and had sped 
in such confusion towards Camden, that his encampment, 
and the road which he traversed, were strewn with 
canteens and knapsacks, and everything, not necessary to 
defence, which might retard his progress. 

Marion, somewhat surprised at a flight for which ho 
could not then account, for his own force was far inferior 
to that of Doyle, yet saw that the fugitive was beyond 
present pursuit. He wheeled about, accordingly, and set 
his men in motion for another meeting with Watson. 
That commander, now strengthened, and just doubling 



LIFE OF MARION. 227 

the numbers of our partisan, with fresh supplies of provi- 
sions and military stores, had once more pushed for the 
Pedee. He took the nearest route across Black river, at 
VVragg's Ferry, and, crossing the Pedee at Euhaney, and 
the Little Pedee at Potato Ferry, he halted at Catfish 
Creek, one mile from the present site of Marion Court- 
house. Marion crossed the Pedee, and encamped at the 
Warhees, within five miles of the enemy. Here he 
planted himself, in vigilant watch of the force which he 
could not openly encounter. In addition to the want of 
men, he labored under a still greater want of ammunition. 
When asked by Capt. Gavin Witherspoon, whether he 
meant to fight Watson— a measure which Witherspoon 
thought particularly advisable— before he was joined by 
any more bodies of Tories, he answered, " That would be 
Dest, but we have not ammunition." 

" Why, general," said Witherspoon, " my powder-horn 

is full." 

•' Ah, my friend I" was the reply of Marion, " you are 
an extraordinary soldier ; but for the others, there are not 
two rounds to a man." 

Thus stood the two parties ; and thus it but too fre- 
quently stood with our partisan— wanting the most simple 
resources by which to make his own genius and the valor 
of his men apparent. That the former was alive and 
equal to emergencies, even in such a condition of necessity, 
may be inferred from the fact, that he should dare take 
such a position, so immediately contiguous to an enemy 
double his own force, and abounding in all the requisite 
materials of war. The inactivity of Watson Is only to be 
accounted for by his total ignorance of the resourceless 
state of Marion's rifles. 

While Marion and Watson were thus relatively placed, 
the former was apprised of the return of Greene to South 



228 LIFE OF MARION. 

Carolina. I'his intelligence accounted for the hasty retreat 
of Doyle. He was summoned by Lord Rawdon to Cam- 
den, to strengthen that position against the American force, 
which was advancing in that direction. The reappear- 
ance of Greene was a source of heartfelt joy to those who, 
but a little while before, had anticipated the necessity of 
flying before the foe, and taking shelter in the mountains. 
It was because of the absence of the American army that 
Rawdon was enabled, as we have seen, to concentrate his 
chief force upon Marion. The presence of Greene, which 
bad caused the recall of Doyle, must, as Marion well knew, 
effect that of Watson also. He was preparing himself 
accordingly, when further advices brought him news of the 
approach of Colonel Lee, with the Continental Legion, to 
his own assistance. He dispatched a guide to Lee, and 
by means of boats, which he always kept secreted, the 
Legion was transported over the Pedee, and a junction with 
Marion's force was effected on the fourteenth of April. 

The tidings which had brought such gratification to the 
camp of Marion, had as inspiring, though not as grateful an 
effect in that of Watson. He lost no time in breaking up his 
encampment. The safety of Rawdon and Camden was para- 
mount, and, wheeling his two field-pieces into Catfish Creek, 
and burning his baggage, as Doyle had done, he sped, with 
similar precipitation, in the same direction. The route taken 
in his flight declared his apprehensions of Marion. He trem- 
bled at the recollection of the recent race between them — 
the harassings and skirmishings night and day — the sleep- 
less struggles, and unintermitting alarms. Recrossing the 
Little Pedee, and avoiding Euhaney, he passed the Wac- 
camaw at Greene's Ferry, and, retreating through the 
Neck, between that river and the sea, crossed Winyaw 
Bay, three miles in width, and, in this manner, arrived in 
Georgetown. A slight glance at any map of the country. 



LIFE OF MARION. 229 

keeping in mind that Watson's object was really Camden, 
will show the reader the extent of his fears of that wily 
and indefatigable enemy from whom he had previously 
escaped with so much difficulty. 

Marion was exceedingly anxious to pursue Watson, but 
Lee, though subordinate, succeeded in preventing this de- 
sire. Instructions which he brought from Greene, nnd 
which he earnestly dwelt upon, required their co-opera- 
tion against the British posts below Camden. Lee urged, 
also, that such a pursuit would take them too far from 
Greene, with the movements of whose army it was im- 
portant that^ Marion's force should act as intimately as pos* 
sible. Marion yielded the point with great reluctance, and 
was heard repeatedly after to regret that his orders did not 
permit him to follow the dictates of his own judgment. 
Had he done so, with his force strengthened by the Conti- 
nental bayonets, and new supplies of powder for his rifles, 
Watson's flight to Georgetown, which he could scarcely 
have reached, would have been far more uncomfortable 
than he found it on the previous occasion. 

Lee led the way with his legion towards the Santee, 
while Marion, placing Witherspoon with a small party on 
the trail of Watson, pursued his line of march through 
Williamsburg. Having once resolved, Marion's movements 
were alwa:ys rapid and energetic. On the fifteenth of April, 
only a day after the junction with Lee, he was before Fort 
Watson. 

This was a stockade fort, raised on one of those remark- 
able elevations of an unknown antiquity which are usually 
recognized as Indian mounds. It stands near Scott's Lake 
on the Santee river, a few miles below the junction of the 
Congaree and Wateree. The mound is forty feet in height, 
and remote from any other elevation by which it might be 
commanded. The garrison at this post consisted of p'ghty 



230 LtiPE OF MARION. 

regular troops, and forty loyalists. It was comiiiarided btf 
Lieut. McKay, a brave officer, of the regular service. 
To the summons of Marion he returned a manly deiiance, 
and the place was regularly invested. 

Besieged and besiegers weie alike vv'ithout artillery ; 
with a single piece, the former might well have defied any 
force which Marion could bring against him. The place 
would have been impregnable to the Americans. As it 
was, its steep sides and strong palisades forbade any at- 
tempt to storm. To cut off the garrison from Scott's 
Lake, where it procured water, was the first step taken by 
the besiegers. But the besieged, by sinking a .well within 
the stockade, below the level of the contiguous water, 
counteracted the attempt. For a moment, the assallaiits 
were at fault, and, without artillery, the prospect was suf- 
ficiently discouraging. But while doubting and hesitating, 
Col. Maham, of the brigade, suggested a mode of over- 
awing the garrison which was immediately adopted. At 
a short distance from the fort there grew a small wood, a 
number of the trees of which were hewn down, and trans- 
ported upan the shoulders of the men within a proper dis- 
tance of the mound. Here, during the night, all hands 
were actively employed in piling the wood thus brought, in 
massive and alternate layers, crosswise, until the work had 
reached a sufficient elevation. At dawn, the garrison were 
confounded to fmd themselves, at wakening, under a shower 
of rifle bullets. Thus overlooked, the fort was no longer 
te<nable ; and a party of volunteers from the militia, headed 
oy Ensign Baker,' and another of Continentals, from the 
legion, led by Mr. Lee, a volunteer, ascended the mound 
with great intrepidity, and gained the abbatis, which they 
proceeded to destroy. This movement brought the garri- 
son to terms, and a capitulation immediately followed 
But the leaguer had consumed eight days, the progress of 



LIFE OF MARION. ^1 

♦v^hich had been watched with equal anxiety by both parties. 
The Americans apprehended, and the garrison anticipated, 
the approach of Watson with an overwhelming force for the 
relief of the besieged. But Watson did not appear. He 
no longer had an overwhelming force. His flight to George- 
town was marked by loss and desertion. It appears that 
his panic, or his sense of duty, led him rather to avoid 
Marion and to reach Camden without interruption. He 
very prudently, therefore, after crossing the Santee, on the 
route from Georgetown, moved down by Monk's Corner, 
added to his force the garrison of that place, and then 
cautiously advanced to the Santee. He resolved rather to 
leave Fort Watson to its fate, than risk a force which might 
be necessary to the exigencies of Rawdon. Watson was 
considered by the British one of their best partisans, yet 
never had poor warrior been so worried and harassed, as, 
with a superior force, he had been by Marion. Yet, in his 
second expedition in pursuit of the latter, had he been able 
to co-operate with Doyle, with the Tories of Harrison and 
Gaincy, all preparing for the same object, the escape of our 
partisan would have been miraculous. At no time, during 
their pursuit of him, was his force equal to the smallest one 
of theirs. He must have been expelled the country, as he 
himself seemed to apprehend, or he must have fallen in the 
conflict. 

We have so little at the hands of Marion, in the shape 
of correspondence, that we are tempted to give his oflicial 
letter to General Greene, apprising him of the fall of Fort 
Watson. It is dated — 

Fort Watson (Scott's Lake), April 23, 1781. 
Sir— 
Lieut. -Col. Lee made a junction w'th me at Santee 
.be 14th inst , after a rapic march from Ramsay's mill, OB 



232 LIFE OF MARION. 

Deep E-iver, which he performed in eight days. The 15th 
we marched to this place and invested it. Our hope was 
to cut off their water. Some riflemen and Continentals 
immediately took post between the fort and the lake. The 
fort is situated on a small hill, forty feet high, stockaded, 
and with three rows of abbatis round it. No trees 
near enough to cover our men from their fire. The third 
day after we had invested it, we found the enemy had sunk 
a well near the stockade which we could not prevent them 
from [doing] ; as we had no entrenching tools to make our 
approach, we immediately determined to erect a work equal , 
in height to the fort. This arduous work was completed 
this morning by Major Maham, who undertook it We 
then made a lodgment on the side of the mound, near the 
stockade. This was performed with great spirit and ad- 
dress by Ensign Johnson, and Mr. Lee, a volunteer in Col. 
Lee's legion, who with difficulty ascended the hill and 
pulled away the abbatis, which induced the commandant to 
hoist a flag. Col. Lee and myself agreed to the enclosed 
capitulation, which I hope may be approved by you. Our 
loss on this occasion is two killed, and three Continentals 
and three militia wounded. I am particularly indebted to 
Col. Lee for his advice and indefatigable diligence in every 
part of these tedious operations, against as strong a little 
post as could well be made, and on the most' advantageous 
spot that could be wished for. The officers and men of 
the legion and militia performed everything that could be 
expected ; and Major Maham of my brigade, had, in a par- 
ticular manner, a great share of this success by his unwea- 
ried diligence in erecting the tower which principally occa- 
sioned the reduction of the fort. In short, sir, I have had 
the greatest assistance from every one under my command. 
Enclosed is a list of the prisoners and stores taken, and 1 
shall, V ithout loss of time, proceed to demolish the fort 



LIFE OF .^I A R I O N . 233 

after which I shall march to the high hills of Santce, 
encamp at Capt. Richardson's, and await your orders. 
(Signed) Francis Marion. 

In taking post at the Santee Hills, the object of Marion 
was to take such a position as would enable him to watch 
all the several roads by which Watson could make his way 
to Camden. It was important, if possible, to prevent his 
junction with Lord Rawdon, thus increasing the ability of 
that commander to cope with Greene's army, which now 
lay before that place. But Marion was notable to encoun- 
ter Watson without assistance. Lee, with his legion, had 
been withdrawn by Greene soon after the capture of Fort 
Watson, and our partisan's force in camp, from concurring 
circumstances, was now reduced to about eighty men. 
Eighty of his brigade were detached under Col. Irvine to 
Rafting Creek, in order to cut off supplies from Camden 
Another party was engaged in watching a rising of the 
Tories on the Pedee, who, in the absence of Marion him- 
self, had manifested a disposition to resume the offensive ; 
Col. Harden, with another detachment, was on the Salke- 
hatchie, having first succeeded in the capture of Fort Bal- 
four at Pocotaligo, in which he made nearly a hundred pris- 
oners. Other small detachments had thinned the little 
army of our partisan to such a degree that it was of small 
efficiency where it was ; and, just at this juncture, nume- 
rous desertions took place from two concurring circumstan- 
ces. The approach of Marion to the hills had brought on 
the battle of Camden. Unwilling that Greene's force should 
be increased by the militia of the former, Rawdon had 
resolved not to wait for Watson, but to m.arch out and give 
battle before the coming of either. He did so. The ailair 
was not decisive, but Greene was compelled to yield tho 
field to his enemv He lost nothing^ whether of honor or 



234 L 1 P E F M A jR I N . 

position, by this result. But, as the news spread, the de^ 
feat was exaggerated. It was supposed to be another affair 
such as that of Gates . and Marion's small body of men was 
still farther lessened by desertion. There was still another 
reason for its p'-esent feebleness. The time of the year 
was the very luight of the planting season, and the farmer- 
soldiers, in numbers, left the camp in order to hurry to their 
homes and set their crops This, though not allowed by 
the regular disciplinarian, was, in the mind of the militia- 
man, a duty quite as imperative as any that he owed to his 
family. Indeed, it was inseparable from his necessities that, 
v/here the Government did not give him bread, he must 
make it for himself His family could not starve, and if he 
could fight without pay, it was not possible that he should 
do so without food. In the sort of warfare which Marion 
had hitherto carried on, he had been willing to recognize 
these necessities on the part of his followers. Co-operating 
with an army differently constituted, it was scarcely possible 
to do so, with any hope of their permanent usefulness. Just 
at this juncture, in particular, he felt the peculiarly mortify- 
ing character of his situation. 

To enable Marion to contend with Watson, Greene dis- 
patched Major Eaton, with a body of Continentals, to his 
assistance, with instructions to throw himself across the path 
of Vv^atson. But Eaton, by an unhappy misunderstanding 
of his duty, failed to reach him in season for this object. 
When he did join him, which was on the evening of the 
2d of May, it was too late. Marion, writing to Greene, 
says, " Major Eaton's not coming up sooner has made me 
lose a great deal of precious time. I shall cross the Santee 
at Wright's Bluff to-morrow." He did so, but Watson had 
already passed, and succeeded including Greene also, and 
^-n reaching Camden in safety. 

We have spoken of (JoL Harden 's proceedings against 



LIFE OF MARION. 236 

Fort Balfour, and the capture of that post. This officer was 
a very brave and active gentleman, rapid in his movements^ 
and resolute in his objects. As soon as Marion had receiv- 
ed intelligence of Greene's approach to South Carolina, he 
had dispatched Harden with seventy select men, well , 
mounted, to penetrate through the country, and crossing 
the enemy's lines of communication, to stir up the people 
in all that reo;ion which lies southwest of Charleston. So 
rapid and unexpected were his movements, that he took 
the enemv everywhere by surprise, and rendered himself, 
for the time, the very terror of the loyalists upon the route. 
His force increased with its progress. The inhabitants 
yearned for an escape from British authority, and joined his 
troop. His seventy men soon became two hundred, and 
while he baffled the pursuit of the superior, he visited with 
sudden and severe chastisement the disaffected, along and 
on both sides of the Savannah river. Ascending this, he 
soon communicated with Pickens, then operating against 
Augusta and Ninety-Six. Nothing now was wanting but 
the fall of the enemy's chain of posts, to complete the re- 
covery of the whole country within thirty miles of the sea. 
In contributing to this desirable object Marion, now strength- 
ened by the Continentals of Lee and Eaton, invested Fort 
Motte on the river Congaree. 

This post was the principal depot of ti^- convoys from 
Charleston to Camden, and sometimes of those destined 
for Forts Granby and Ninety-Six. A large new mansion- 
house belonjrms: to Mrs. Motte, situated on a high and com- 
manding hill, had been chosen for this establishment. It 
was surrounded with a deep trench, along the inner margin 
of which a strong and lofty parapet was raised. To tliis 
post had been assigned a sufficient garrison of one hundred 
aiid lifty men. This force was increased by a small di-tacli- 
nicnt i)f drai^oons from Charlcsluu^ wliicli lind Seen tluinvn 



236 LI F EOF MARION. 

into it a few hours before the appearance of the Americans. 
The garrison was commanded by Capt. McPherson, a firm 
and gallant officer. 

Opposite to Fort Motte, to the north, stood another hill, 
where Mrs. Motte, who had been expelled from her dwell- 
ing:, resided in an old farm-house. On this, Lee took posi- 
tion with his corps : Marion's men occupied the eastern 
declivity of the same ridge on which stood the fort. 

The place was very soon invested. The six pounder 
with which Greene had furnished Marion, was mounted on 
a battery raised in the quarter vrhich he occupied, for the 
purpose of raking the northern face of the enemy's parapet. 
McPherson was in the possession of a wall-piece, but he 
had not been able to adapt it for use before the investment 
took place. It does not seem to have been even used 
during the siege. His chief hopes lay in being relieved by 
a detachment from Camden, not doubting its arrival before 
his assailant could push his preparations to maturity. The 
works of the latter advanced rapidly, and the place was 
summoned on the 20th of May. The reply declared the 
determination of the besieged to try the strength and patience 
of the besiegers. These had now every motive for per- 
severance. They were advised of the approach of Raw- 
don, with all his orce, to the relief of the fort. That 
stern command -r, finding Camden was no longer tenable 
against the increasing forces of the Americans, and unable 
to maintain his several posts with his diminished strength, 
was aiming to contract his scattered bodies into narrower 
Hmits. Having made a second, but unsatisfactory, demon- 
stration upon Greene, he destroyed his unnecessary bag- 
gage, and, leaving Camden in flames, he once more aban- 
doned it to the Americans. Greene advised Marion of his 
retreat, and urged him to expedition. On the next night 
he reached the country opposite Fort Motte, and his 



LIFE OF MARION. 237 

numerous fires on the highest grounds on his route, en- 
couraged the garrison with hopes of success , which were 
not to be reahzed. 

What was to be done, was to be done quickly, on the 
part of the besiegers. The process of battering by cannon 
would be too slow. Some shorter mode was to be adopted, 
to anticipate the approach of Rawdon. The ready 
thought of our partisan suggested this process. It was 
known that the large mansion of Mrs. Motte occupied the 
greater part of the area of the fort ; but a few yards of 
ground within the works remained uncovered by it. To 
burn the house by fire would compel the surrender of the 
garrison. 

The necessity was very reluctantly communicated to the 
widow by whom the property was owned. But she was 
one of those glorious dames of the Revolution, to whom 
the nation is so largely indebted for the glory of that event. 
She had received the American officers with a hospitality 
which made them almost shrink from suggesting their pur- 
poses ; but as soon as they were made known, she put them 
perfectly at ease upon the subject. With something more 
than cheerfulness — with pride — that any sacrifice on her 
part should contribute to the success of her countrymen, 
in so dear an object, she herself produced a bow, with all 
the necessary apparatus, which had been brought from 
India, and which she had preserved. By the arrows from 
this bow the fire was to be communicated to her dwelling. 

Everything being in readiness, the lines were manned 
and an additional force stationed at the batteries, lest the 
enemy, in the moment of desperation, might prefer risking 
an assault, rather than endure the mortification of a surren- 
der. A flag was again sent to McPherson, but the sight of 
Rawdon's fires on the other side of the river encouraged 
him with the belief that he might still resist successfully 



238 LIFEOF MARION. 

The bow was put into the hands of Nathan Savuge, a 
private in Marion's brigade. It was noon when the attempt 
was made. The scorching rays of the noonday sun had 
prepared the roof for the conflagration. Balls of blazing 
rosin and brimstone were attached to the arrows, and three 
several shafts were sent by the vigorous arm of the militia- 
man against the roof. They took effect, in three different 
quarters, and the shingles were soon in a blaze. JMcPher- 
son immediately ordered a party to the roof, but this had 
been prepared for, and the fire of the six-pounder soon 
drove the soldiers down. The flames be^an to rao;e, the 
besiegers were on the alert, guarding every passage, and 
no longer hopeful of Rawdon, McPherson hung out the 
white flag imploring mercy. The gentle nature of Marioa 
readily yielded to his prayer, though, as Lee tells us, " policy 
commanded death." 

In this siege Marion lost two brave fellows, one of whom 
lias been more than once conspicuous in this narrative- • 
the daring Sergeant McDonald, and Lieutenant Cruger. 
McDonald had reached a lieutenancy before he fell. The 
prisoners were paroled, but their officers before leaving 
partook of a sumptuous dinner given by Mrs. Motte to 
the victors. This noble lady, whose grace of demeanor is 
Represented as quite equal to her patriotism, presided at her 
table, m such a manner as to render all parties at home. 
Col. P. Horry tells us of some of the incidents which took 
place at the dinner. A captain of the British army, taker; 
among the prisoners, on finding himself near Horry, said 
to him. 

" You are Col. Horry, I presume, sir." Horry answered 
in the affirmative. " Well," said the other, " . was with 
Col. Watson when he on Sampit fought your General 
Marion. I think I saw j^ou there with a party of horse. I 
think you were also at Nelson's Ferry, when Marion surpris- 



LIFE OF MARION 239 

ed our party at the house ? But," added the officer, " 1 
was hid in high grass and escaped. Were you not there 
also ?" Horry answered, " No ! It was my brother Hugh." 
" Well," said the captain," you were fortunate in your escape 
[at Sanipit] for VTatson and Small had 1200 men." " If 
so," said Horry, '* I certainly was fortunate, for I did not 
suppose they had more than half that number." The 
captain then added — " I consider myself equally fortunate 
in escaping at Nelson's old field." " Truly, you were." 
answered Horry drily ; "for Marion had but 30 militia on 
that occasion." " At this," says our worthy Colonel, 
" the captain's countenance fell, and he retired, and avoided 
me the rest of the day. General Greene, the next day 
('Greene had reached Marion's camp that night) said to me, 
' Col. Horry, how came you to affi'ont Capt. Ferguson .'" j 
answered, he affironted himself by telling his own story. It 
militated so greatly against himself as to compel the officers 
wno were near to laugh. The captain and I, sir, agreed 
that we were both equally fortunate in war. Greene 
replied, ' Capt. Ferguson's memory was only too good.' "* 
While at the hospitable table of Mrs. Moultrie, it was 
whispered in Marion's ears, that Col. Lee's men were even 
then engaged in hanging certain of the Tory prisoners. 
Marion instantly hurried from the table, seized his sword, 
and running with all haste, reached the place of execution 
in time to rescue one poor wretch from the gallows. Two 
were already beyond rescue or recovery. With drawn 
sword and a degree of indignation in his countenance that 
spoke more than words, Marion threatened to kill the first 
man that made any further attempt in such diabolicaj 
proceedings. 

• Horry's MS. Narrativ2, pp. 74-5. f Ibid, y 75. 



CHAPTER XV. 

Correspondence of Marion and Greene. — Anecdote of Col. Snipe& 
—Marion takes Georgetown. — Attempt of Sumter and Marion 
on Col. Coates. — Battle of Cluinby Bridge. 

It was while Marion was most actively engaged in the 
investment of Fort Motte, that a correspondence took place 
between himself and General Greene, which had nearly 
resulted in the loss of his invaluable services to the coun 
try. A pure and noble spirit, Marion was particularly 
sensitive to reproach, and felt deeply its injustice. From 
the moment that Greene took command of the southern 
army, he had yielded the most profound deference to his 
wishes, had seconded his slightest suggestions, timed his 
own movements with a studied regard to those contem- 
plated by the commander, and, whenever the service 
would allow, had devoted his little band to such duties as 
would lead to the promotion of all those larger plans which 
were contemplated for the execution of the grand army. 
His scouts had served for pioneers, his cavalry procured 
provisions for the camp, and it was to Marion alone that 
Greene looked for all his intelligence. But there was one 
favorite object which Greene had in view, to which our 
partisan could contribute little. The want of a cavalry 
force had been particularly felt by the former, and he had 
been sedulous in the endeavor to supply this want, from 
the very first of his southern campaigns. He had been 



LIFE OF MARION 241 

pressingly calling upon Sumter, Marion, and every officer, 
who might be thought able to procure him a supply of 
horses ; and active agents of his own had been scouring 
every quarter of the country in search of this indispensable 
agent of all great military operations. His quest^had been 
comparatively vain. The British had been before him 
throughout the country. The dragoons of Tarleton had swept 
the stables ; and, where this was not the case, the horses 
were held by militia men, to whom they were quite as indis- 
pensable as to the grand army. Marion's troopers could 
only be of service while in possession of their horses — 
:hey had large and extensive tracts of country to traverse — 
could procure no intelligence v/ithout — and, any attempt to 
dismount a soldier from his favorite steed, would be to 
produce a degree of discontent in his mind which would 
most certainly deprive the country of his services. To 
expect that the partisan militia under Marion and Sumter, 
who had been constantly on horseback, in the face of the 
enemy, should deliver their horses up to others who pos- 
sessed no higher claim upon the country than themselves, 
was to expect more largely than was altogether reasona- 
ble, from the liberality or the patriotism of any set of men. 
A few, such as could be spared, had been supplied by 
Marion. He never, for an instant, contemplated the dis- 
mounting of his troopers — those hardy fellows w^ho had 
been constant in all vicissitude — who had murmured at 
no tasks — shrunk from no adventures — and spared neither 
themselves nor their property, when the necessities of the 
country required, at periods when there was no grand 
army to divide with themselves the honors and the dan- 
gers of the war. Nay, to dismount them was, in fact, to 
disarm himself. It appears, however, that this was expect- 
ed of him An unfortunate letter of Col. Lee, dated the 23d 
May, and addressed to Greene, contained this paragraph , 
16 



242 LIFE OF MARION. 

<^ General Marion," says the letter, " can su].^p.y you, 
if he will, with one hundred and fifty good dragoon horses, 
most of them imoressei horses. He mio;ht, in my opinion, 
spare sixty, which would be a happy supply." 

The effect of this communication upon Greene was 
immediate and painful. Believing that he had been ill- 
used, and vexed that Marion, knowing his necessities, and 
with the power to relieve them, should yet have forborne 
to do so, though urgently exhorted, he frankly declared 
his feelings in tke very next letter to our partisan. Marion 
did not dissemble his indignation in his reply. He repels 
the charge that he had ever withheld supplies which he 
might have furnished, and concludes his letter by request- 
ing permission to resign — firmly, but respectfully, intimat- 
ins: his resolution to retire from service as soon as Fort 
Motte should be reduced. Greene, in an instant, from 
this reply, perceived the mischief that he had done. He 
wrote instantly to Marion, and succeeded, though with 
difficulty, in overcoming his resolution. He says : " My 
reason for writing so pressingly for the dragoon horses, 
was from the distress we were in. It is not my wish to 
take the horses from the militia, if it will injure the public 
service. The effects and consequences you can better 
judge of than I can. You have rendered important ser- 
vices to the public with the militia under ;ymir command, 
and have done great hono» to yourself, and I would not 
wish to render your situation less agreeable with them, 
unless it is to answer some very great purpose ; and this, 
I persuade myself, you would agree to, from a desire to 
promote the common good." . . 

From the same letter, we make another extract : " 1 
shall always be happy to see you at head-quarters, but 
cannot think you seriously mean to solicit leave to go 
to Philadelphia. It is true, your task has been disagreea- 



LIFE C F MA K ION. 2^j<i 

Die, hut not more so than others. It is now guing on 
seven year^ since the commencement of this war I have 
never liad leave of absence one hour, nor paid the least 
attention to my own private affairs. Your State is invad- 
ed — your all is at stake. What has been done will signify 
nothing, unless we persevere to the end. I left a fami y 
in distress, and everything dear and valuable, to come and 
afford you all the assistance in my power, to promote the 
service. It must throw a damp upon the spirits of the 
army, to find that the first men in the lS|ate are retiring 
from the busy scene, to indulge themselves in more agree- 
able amusements. However, your reasons for wishing to 
decline the command of the militia, and go to Philadel- 
phia, may be more pressing than I imagine ; I will, there- 
fore, add nothing more on this subject till I see you." 

The adroit mixture of reproach with commendation^ 
was not done without reflection. Greene seems to have 
understood the character of Marion. But there was some 
oblique injustice in his letter. A man^^s patriotism is not 
to be reproached, because he wishes to escape injustice 
and indignity. The best of patriots will be apt to become 
disgusted with a service in which their claims are neglect- 
ed, their performances slurred over, and their motive? 'm- 
peached ; and this, too, at a period, and after long periods, 
of service, in which they have watched, toiled, and fought, 
without hope or prospect of reward. When General 
Greene compared the disagreeableness of Marion's toils 
with those of others, he certainly overlooked, not only the 
peculiar character of those toils, but the peculiar privations 
which distinguished the career of Marion's men, and the 
particularly painful duties w^hich so frequently belonged to 
it. His own previously expressed opinions with regard to 
the warfare, a.s carried on between Whig and Tory in the 
*outh^ will be found to furnish a sufficient commentary 



244 t I i i- OF MARION 

upon the comparison which he thus makes. Greene him- 
belf, by the way, is not without blame in some respects, 
in relation to the southern commanders of militia. The 
slighting manner in which he spoke of them, and of their 
services, in letters not intended to be public, was such^ 
that some of them, Sumter for example, never forgave 
him. His prejudices were those of the regular service, 
the policy of which is always to disparage the militia. To 
Marion himself, his language was of a different character. 
Fake the followilig extract of a letter, written to the latter 
only one month before the correspondence above referred 
to. This letter is dated, from the camp before Camden, 
A.pril 24, 17S1, and will give a faint idea of the true 
cairns of Marion upon the regard of his country. " When 
I consider," writes Greene, " how much you have done 
and suffered, and under what disadvantage you have main- 
tained your ground, I am at a loss which to admire most, 
your courage and fortitude, or your address and manage- 
ment. Certain it is, no man has a better claim to the pub- 
he thanks than you. History affords no instance wherein 
an officer has kept possession of a country under so many 
disadvantages as you have. Surrounded on every side 
with a superior force, hunted from every quarter with 
veteran troops, you have found means to elude their 
attempts, and to keep alive the expiring hopes of an 
oppressed militia, w^hen all succor seemed to be cut off. 
To fight the enemy bravely with the prospect of victory ^ is 
nothing ; hut to fight with intrepidity under the constant im- 
pression of defeat^ and inspire irregular troops to do it^ is a 
talent peculiar to ijourself Nothing will give me greater 
pleasure than to do justice to your merit, and I shall miss no 
opportunity of declaring to Congress, to the commander-in- 
thief of the American army, and to the world, the great sense 
I have of your merit and your services." 



L I . " E OF INI A R r N . S4?? 

The correspondence of Greene with Marion, on the 
)?ubject of the horses, closed with a letter on the part of 
the latter, in which he turned off the affair on grounds that 
proved his feelings tranquillized. A present of a fine horse, 
for Greene's own use, accompanied this letter. It has 
been shown that, on the day of the capture of Fort Motte, 
Greene rode into the camp of Marion, at that place. We 
can conceive of no other motive for his presence here, than 
a desire to make his reconciliation perfect. He brought no 
Force with him to promote the object of the besiegers, and 
his stay was limited to a brief interview. 

But the evil effect of this affair did not end here. The 
militia, alarmed at the idea of having their horses taken 
from them, soon began to scatter, and.pleading the planting 
season upon which they had entered — some, indeed, without 
any plea, — they left the camp in numbers, and before the 
leaguer was well over, the force of Marion was reduced to 
something less than two hundred men. With this remnant 
of his brigade, as soon as Fort Motte was yielded, Marion 
detached himself from the regular troops and struck down 
towards Monk's Corner, hanging upon the skirts of Lord 
Rawdon's army, then in full retreat from Camden, 

Perhaps the most interesting portions of our traditionary 
history in the South, will be found to have occurred to the 
scattered bodies of the partisan cavalry, while on their return 
movements to and from the army, after such a dispersion 
as that from which the brigade of Marion was now suf- 
fering. It was no easy matter for the small group, or the 
single trooper, to regain the family homestead, or the 
friendly neighborhood in which their wives and little ones 
were harbored. Every settlement through which they 
passed had its disaffected population. It might be small or 
large, but its numbers did net affect its activity, and, with 
^he main body of the Whig? in <amp, or on the road, th^ 



246 



|5}-'' & ? M^'i FE OF MARION." 

Fories, in iptmote sections of the country, were generally 
equally strong and daring. These waylaid the customary 
pathways, and aware of all the material movements of the 
regular troops, made their arrangements to cut off 
straffo-lers or small detached bodies. When we consider 
the active malignity by which the civil war in Carolina was 
marked ; the wild forests in which it took place ; the pecu 
liar ferocity which it stimulated, and the various character- 
istics of the local modes a*^ warfare, the chase and the sur- 
prise, we shall have no occasion for wonder at the strange 
and sometimes terrible events by which it was distinguish- 
ed. One of these, which occurred to Captain, afterwards 
Colonel Snipes, of Marion's brigade, is a remarkable in- 
stance ; and, as it has been told elsewhere, in connection 
with the life of Marion, it may well claim a place in this 
narrative. 

Snipes was a Carolinian, of remarkable strength and 
courage. He was equally distinguished for his vindictive 
hatred of the Tories. He had suffered some domestic in- 
juries at their hands, and he was one who never permitted 
himself to forgive His temper was sanguinary in the ex- 
treme, and led him, in his treatment of the loyalists, to such 
ferocities as subjected him, on more than one occasion, to 
the harshest rebuke of his commander. It is not certain at 
what period in the war the following occurrence took place, 
but it was on one of those occasions when the partisan mili- 
tia claimed a sort of periodical privilege of abandoning their 
general to look after their families and domestic interests. 
Availing himself of this privilege. Snipes pursued his way 
to his plantation. His route was a circuitous one, but it 
is probable that he pursued it with little caution. He was 
more distinguished for audacity than prudence. The Tories 
fell upon his trail, which they followed with the keen 
avidity of the sleuth-hound. Snipes reached his --planta- 



LIFE OF MARIOX. 247 

Hon in safety, unconscious of pursuit. Having oxaminod 
the homestead and received an account of all things done in 
his absence, from a faithful driver, and lulled into securi- 
ty by the seeming quiet and silence of the neighborhood, 
he retired to rest, and, after the fatigues of the day, soon 
fell into a profound sleep. From this he was awakened 
by the abrupt entrance and cries of his driver. The faith- 
ful negro apprised him, in terror, of the approach of the 
Tories. They were already on the plantation. His vigilance 
alone prevented them from taking his master in bed. 
Snipes, starting up, proposed to take shelter in the barn, 
but the driver pointed to the flames already bursting from 
that building. He had barely time to leave the house, 
covered only by his night shirt, and, by the counsel of the 
negro, to fly to the cover of a thick copse of briars and 
brambles, within fifty yards of the dweUing, when the Tories 
surrounded it. The very task of penetrating this copse^ 
so as to screen himself from sight, eflectually removed the 
thin garment which concealed his nakedness. The shirt 
was torn from his back by the briars, and the skin shared 
in its injuries. But,once there,he lay effectually concealed 
from sight. Ordinary conjecture would scarcely have sup- 
posed that any animal larger than a rabbit would have 
:>ought or found shelter in such a region. The Tories im- 
mediately seized upon the negro and demanded his master, 
at the peril of his life. Knowing and fearing the courage 
and the arm of Snipes, they did not enter the dwelling, but 
adopted the less valorous mode of setting it on fire, and., 
with pointed muskets, surrounded it, in waiting for the 
moment when their victim should emerge. He, within a 
few steps of them, heard their threats and expectations, 
and beheld all their proceedings. The house was con- 
sumed, and the intense heat of the fire subjected ourpaiti- 
Kan,in his place of retreat, to such torture, as none but tho 



248 LIFE OF M A R I O K . 

most dogged hardihood could have endured without com 
plaint. The skin was peeled from his body in many places^ 
and the blisters were shown long after, to persons who are 
still living.* But Snipes too well knew his enemies, and 
what he had to expect at their hands, to acknowledge 
his sufferings. He bore the torture, which was terribly 
increased, when, finding themselves at fault, the Tories 
brought forward the faithful negro who had thus far saved 
his master, and determined to extort from him, in the hal- 
ter, the secret of his hiding-place. But the courage and 
fidelity of the negro proved superior to the terrors of 
death. Thrice was he run up the tree, and choked nearly 
to strangulation, but in vain. His capability to endure 
proved superior to the will of the Tories to inflict, and he 
was at length let- down, half dead, — as, in truth, ignorant 
of the secret w^hich they desired to extort. What were the 
terrors of Snipes in all this trial ? What his feelings of 
equal gratitude and apprehension ? How noble was the 
fidelity of the slave — based upon what gentle and affection- 
ate relationship between himself and master — probably 
from boyhood ! Yet this is but one of a thousand sucn 
attachments, all equally pure and elevated, and maintained 
through not dissimilar perils. 

While Marion was operating against Forts Watson and 
Motte, Sumter, with like success, had besieged the British 
posts at Orangeburg and Granby. It was the loss of these 
posts, and the dread of the subsequent concentration of the 
whole American force against Camden, that had prompted 
the destruction and abandonment of that place by Lord 
Rawdon. This was the plan and object of Greene The 
precipitate movements of Rawdon, who anticipated ine pur 

* See a biographical sketch of Tarlton Brown, of Barnwell, 
S C, a soldier in the -^evolutiouary army. Charleston, 1844, 
p. 8. 



LIFE OF M A ]U N 



249 



pose of the former, necessarily defeated it. Pickens was 
operating against Augusta ; while Sumter, leaving the 
investment of Granby, the conquest of which was consid^ 
ered sure, to Col. Taylor, proceeded down the country, 
with the two-fold object of harassing the descent of the 
British army, and to prevent them from carrying off the 
cattle of the inhabitants. In the former object, neither Ma- 
rion nor himself had much success. They did not succeed 
in effecting a junction, and the sanguine desire of Sumter, 
with united forces, to operate boldly upon the retreating 
army of Rawdon, was not encouraged by Greene, who pre- 
ferred a safe and sure, though slow progress, to any attain^ 
ment of his end by a hazardous attempt, however glorious. 
The task of holding Rawdon in check, was confided to 
Marion and Sumter, while Greene proceeded with his 
whole army, to the investment of the post of Ninety-Six, 
at the village of Cambridge. In the execution of their 
duties, the two partisans closed in upon the British com- 
mander, until he established a line of fortified posts, ex- 
tending from Georgetown, by Monk's Corner, Dorchester, 
&c., to Coosawhatchee. Within this line our partisans 
continually made incursions, keeping the enemy in con- 
stant check and apprehension. They were not in force to 
do more. Georgetown, however, separated by water 
courses and swamps of great magnitude, from the other 
posts, was left with a garrison so feeble, as to tempt Marion 
to proceed against it. The parishes tha<^ he along the San- 
tee, on both sides, towards its mouth, haa turned out with 
so much zeal on his return into theii neighborhood, that he 
soon found himself in sufficient force to cover the country 
with a strong detachment under Col. Maham, while, with 
his main body, he went against Georgetown. He appeared 
before this place on the 6th of June, and instantly began hia 
approaches. But his simple demons* (ion was suflicient 



^iO L I F E F M A R I N . 

The enemy made but a show of resistance. As the attempt 
was pressed, the garrison fled to their galleys, and took a 
position in the bay beyond the reach of the Americans. 
They finally abandoned the harbor altogether. It was not 
in the power of Marion to man the post efficiently, and his 
policy forbade that he should do it inadequately. Accord- 
ingly, he deliberately removed the military stores and pub- 
lic property, up the Pedee, then, demolishing the works, 
returned to join his detachmeiit in St. Stephens. While at 
Georgetown, however, it is recorded that he replenished 
his wardrobe, and fitted himself out with a becoming suit of 
regimentals. This was an event, in the career of our par- 
tisan, to be remembered by his followers. He indulged, 
it seems, for the first time, in some other of the luxuries 
of the campaigner. A couple of mules were employed for 
the transportation of his baggage, and his usual beverage of 
vinegar and water was occasionally diversified by a bowl 
of coffee at breakfast. A little before this, — perhaps soon 
after General Greene had penetrated the State, — he had ap- 
pointed himself a couple of secretaries for the purpose of 
greater dispatch in letter writing — his correspondence ne- 
cessarily increasing, in consequence of his connection with 
the more expanded operations of the army. State, he did 
not affect, and the simplicity and modesty of his character 
may be easily inferred from this petty enumeration of the 
aids and comforts which he thought proper to draw from his 
successes. 

While Marion, in person, proceeded against Georgetown, 
Col. Peter Horry was dispatched with a strong body of 
men against the loyalists on the Pedee, a wild and blood- 
thirsty band of borderers, under the conduct of Major Gai- 
ney, of whom we have had occasion to speak already. 
Horry succeeded in awing Gainey into submission, and in 
♦extorting from him a treaty by which he consented, with hi.s 



LIFE OF MARION. 2')1 

officers and men, to maintain a condition of neutrality 
This submission, though complete, was but temporary, it 
required subsequently the decisive proceedings of Maricn, 
and his personal presence, to enforce its provisions. But of 
this hereafter. 

While Greene, with the main American army, was pro- 
cording against Ninety-Six, preparations were made by the 
British in Charleston, for ravaging the country on the south 
side of the Santee. The people of St. John's and St. Ste- 
phen's parishes, had shown too active a zeal in the cause 
of liberty, to escape prnishment, and it was resolved that 
their country should, be laid waste. The loyalists ot 
Charleston, and that vicinity, had been embodied in a regi- 
ment, and, under Col. Ball, prepared to carry this design 
into execution. But Marion, apprised by his scouts and 
spies of every movement in the city, and unable with his 
present force to meet with that of Ball, determined, how- 
ever painful the necessity, to anticipate his proceedings ; 
and, with his usual celerity, he laid waste the country 
himself; removing across the Santee to places of safety, 
not only all the stock and cattle, but all the provisions, that 
could be collected. They were thus saved, as well for the 
subsistence of his men, as for the proprietor. Anxious to 
oppose himself more actively to the enemy, he sent press- 
ing dispatches to Greene for assistance in covering the coun • 
try. Col. Washington, with his admirable corps of cavalry, 
was accordingly dispatched to his assistance. We have 
seen that the commander-in-chief had proceeded in person 
against the British post at Ninety-Six. To Sumter and 
Marlon had been entrusted the care of Rawdon. They 
were required to check and prevent his progress in the 
event of any attempt which he might make to relieve the 
post They were unsuccessful in doing so. Tlie arrival 
of a British fleet v/ith reinforcements, comprising three 



?52 L r F E O F M A R 1 O N . 

fresh regiments from Ireland, enabled Rawdon to despise an^ 
attempts, which, with their inferior force, our partisans 
might make. Some idea of the diligence of Marion and the 
excellence of his plans for procuring intelligence, may be 
gathered from the fact that the Charleston paper of the 2d 
of June, announcing the arrival of these regiments, was in 
nis possession the very day on which it was printed, ajid 
transmitted instantly, throu2;h Sumter's command, to 
G-eene.* Greene was unsuccessful in his attempts on 
Ninety-Six. The place was relieved, after an obstinate 
defence, by Rawdon, who, with his new troops, by forced 
marches, arrived in time for its deliverance. Greene was 
compelled to retreat after much sanguinary fighting. He 
was pursued by Rawdon for a small distance ; but the lat- 
ter, contenting himself with having rescued, withdrew the 
garrison, and abandoned the place to the Americans. He 
was in no condition to pursue his enemy or to maintain his 
position. His Irish regiments were not to be trusted, and 
the maintenance of the city and the seaboard were para- 
mount considerations. With such active and enterprising 
foes as Marion and Sumter, between his army and his gar 
risen, he felt the insecurity of his hold upon the country. 
His posts in the interior had now everywhere fallen into 
the hands of the Americans. Augusta, with the three 
posts, Cornwallis, Grierson and Galphin, had just been 
yielded to the arms of Pickens and Lee. There were nc 
longer any intermediate posts of defence, from Orangeburg 
to Ninety-Six, and the latter was now so thoroughly iso- 
lated, that prudence led to its abandonment. This neces- 
siiy brought with it another, which was much more pain- 
ful and humiliating to the unfortunate loyalists of that coun- 
try, w no had so long sided with the British arms against 
i^hclr countrymen. They were compelled to abandon their 

* Joiinson's Greene, vol. ii., p. 1 46. 



LI 1 • E !•' M A H 1 O N 23^ 

noines antl share the fortunes of tlie retreating ariiiy. They 
were without refuge, and the sph'it of the warfare had beei 
sach as to k^ave them hopeless of mercy in any encounter 
with the Whigs. A mournful cavalcade followed in the 
train of the British army, and retarded its progress. Greene, 
as he discovered llavvdon''s movements to be retrograde, 
turned upon his retreating footsteps. His cavalry harassed 
the enemy and hastened his flight. At Ancrum's ferry on 
the Congaree, Greene, in advance of his army, joined Ma- 
rion and Washington, the latter with his cavalry, the for- 
mer with four hundred mounted militia; and, at the head of 
these two corps, pressing down the Orangeburg road, on the 
6th of July, he succeeded in passing Lord Rawdon. Re- 
taining command of Washington's cavalry, he dispatched 
Marion with his mounted militia to intercept a valuable 
convoy, freighted not only for relief of Rawdon's army, 
but with all the various supplies and material necessary for 
the establishment of the British post at Granby. Marion 
was unsuccessful. The convoy under Lieut. -Col. Stewart 
escaped without being conscious of its danger. He had 
taken one of two roads, while Marion watched for him 
upon the other. On the morning of the 8th, Stewart and 
Rawdon effected a junction in Orangeburg. The condi- 
tion of the British army on that day is thus described in a 
letter of Marion to Greene : 

" Their troops are so fatigued they cannot possibly move 
Three regiments were going to lay down their arms, and it 
is believed they will to-day, if they are ordered to march. 
They have no idea of any force being near them." 

At Orangeburg, Rawdon was too strongly posted for niiy 
attempts of Greene. Here, with his own force and llial 
of Stewart, numbering fifteen hundred men, he was joiiiod 
by Col. Cruger from Ninety-Six, with thirteen hundred 
more. Orangeburg is situated on the east bank of 'Mh 



2D4 LIFE OF MARION 

North Edisto, which half encircles it. North and south ara 
swamps and ravines, which so nearly approach each other 
as to leave but a narrow and broken passage on the east 
side. The gaol, a strong brick building of two stories, not 
inferior to a strong redoubt, with some other buildings, com- 
manded the approach. " The crown of the hill on which 
it stDod, was sutficiently spacious for manoeuvering the whole 
British army, and the houses and fences afforded sheltc 
igainst all attempts of the American cavalry or mounted 
militia," while, in case of defeat, the bridge in their rear 
afforded as secure means of retreat. An attempt upon such 
a position, with a force consisting chiefly of mounted in- 
fantry, would have been folly, and Greene, after a brief 
demonstration, determined to withdraw one half of his army 
tow^ards the Congaree, while the other was sent forward 
upon that memorable incursion into the lower country, by 
which the enemy, from all quarters, were driven into 
Charleston; and, with the exception of the force at Orange- 
burg, for a brief period, every vestige of British power was 
swept away, down to the very gates of the former place 
The command of this detachment was given to Sumter 
Acting under him, were Marion, Lee, the Hamptons, Tay- 
lor, Horry, Maham, and others of those active partisans 
who had kept alive the war from the beginning. The 
command consisted of all the State troops, Lee's legion, 
and a detachment of artillery, w^ith one field piece ; in all 
about a thousand men. The object of this movement was 
not only to strike at the British line of posts, but to divert 
the attention of Rawdon from the Congaree, where it was 
his policy to re-establish himself in force. 

The force under Sumter, as it approached the scene of 
operations, was broken into separate detachments Dor- 
chester w as yielded without resistance to the corps under 
Lee, while Col Wade Hampton, pressing to the very lines 



HIE OF MaRION 



:cJ;j3 



of Chaileston, captured the guard and patrol at the Quar- 
ter House, and spread terror through the city. Sumter 
and Marion then proceeded against the post at Biggin, 
held by Col. Cpates of the British army, a spirited olfi- 
cei , -with a garrison of five hundred infantry, one hundred 
and fifty horse, and one piece of artillery. The post at 
Biggin consisted of a redoubt at Monk's Corner, and the 
church, about a mile distant, near Biggin Bridge. This 
church was a strona: brick buildins:, which covered the 
bridge, and secured the retreat at that point, by way of 
Monk's Corner. Biggin Creek is one of many streams 
which empty into Cooper river. Of these, it is the most 
northwardly. On the east of this creek, the road to 
Charleston crosses Watboo and Quinby Creeks. The 
destruction of Watboo bridge rendered impracticable the 
retreat by the eastern route, and this bridge, accordingly, 
became an important object to both the British and Ameri- 
cans. A detachment of Marion's men, under Col. Ma- 
ham, was sent forward to destroy the Watboo bridge, and 
thus cut off the retreat of the enemy. But the position and 
force of Col. Coates prevented the approach of Maham, 
and he waited the advance of the main body. On the 
16th July, he was reinforced by a detachment under 
Col. Peter Horry, who, assuming the command, pro- 
ceeded to the attempt upon the bridge. The enemy's 
cavalry opposed themselves to the attempt ; a short ac- 
tion ensued ; they were defeated, and driven back with 
loss. Tho mounted riflemen broke through them, and a 
number of prisoners were taken. Horry then dispatched 
a party to destroy the bridge, and remained to cover the 
men engaged in the work. But the enemy soon re- 
upjieared in force, and Horry, with his working party, was 
compelled to retire, in turn, upon the main body. Sumter, 
believing that ('jato.s had marched cut to give him battle, 



256 LIFE OF MAKION. 

took post in a defile, and awaited him ; but the purpose of 
the enemy was only to gain time — to wear out the day, 
amusing him, while they made secret preparations for 
flight. Their stores were accumulated in the church, 
which had been their fortress, and, at midnight, the flames 
bursting through the roof of the devoted building an- 
nounced to the Americans the retreat of the foe. The 
pursuit was immediately commenced, and, m order that 
it might not be impeded, the only piece of artillery which 
Sumter had, was unfortunately left behind, under Lieut. 
Singleton. Lee and Hampton led the pursuit until, hav- 
ing passed the Watboo, they discovered that the cavalry 
of the enemy had separated from the infantry, taking 
the right hand route. Hampton then struck off in pur- 
suit of the former, in hope to overtake them before they 
could reach the river ; but he urged his panting horses 
in vain. They had completed their escape, and secured 
the boats on the opposite side, before he could come 
up with them. 

Marion's cavalry, meanwhile, under Col. Maham, had 
joined the Legion cavalry in pursuit of the infantry. 
About a mile to the north of Quinby Creek, the rear- 
guard of the retreating army was overtaken. With this 
body, which consisted of one hundred men, under Capt. 
Campbell, was nearly all the baggage of the British army 
Terrified by the furious charge of the Americans, they 
threw down their arms without firing a gun. Flavored by 
this circumstance, the cavalry of Maham, and the Legion, 
pressed forward. Coates had passed Quinby Bridge, and 
made dispositions for its demolition, as soon as the rear- 
guard and baggage should have oassed. The planks which 
covered the bridge had been loosened from the sleepers, 
and a howitzer, at the opposite extremity, was placed to 
check the pursui*. But, as the rear-guard had been cap* 



LIFE OF MARION. 257 

tured without firing a shot, their commander was unap- 
prised of their fate, and unprepared for immediate defence. 
Fortunately for his command, he was present at the bridge 
when the American cavalry came in view. His main body, 
at this moment, was partly on the causeway, on the south 
side of the bridge, and partly pressed into a lane beyond it — 
in both situations so crowded as to be almost wholly inca 
pable of immediate action. Coates, however, coolly took 
measures for his safety. Orders were dispatched to them 
to halt, form, and march up, whilst the artillerists were 
summoned to the howitzer, and the fatigue party to the. 
destruction of the bridge. 

The legion cavalry were in advance of Maham's com 
mand. Captain Armstrong led the first section. Their 
approach to the bridge was marked by all the circumstances 
of danger. They were pressing upon each other into a 
narrow causev/ay, the planks of the bridge were fast sliding 
into the w^ater, and the blazing port-fire hung over the how- 
itzer. The disappearance of the fatigue party from the 
bridge would be the signal for it to vomit death upon the 
ranks of the approaching Americans. There was no time 
for deliberation. Armstrong, followed close by his section, 
dashed over the bridge and drove the artillerists from the 
gun. Lieutenant Carrington followed, but the third sec- 
tion faltered. Maham, of Marion's cavalry, feeling the 
halt, charged by them ; but the death of his horse arrested 
his career.^ Captain Macauley, who led his Tront section, 
pressed on and passed the bridge. The causeway was now 
crowded ; the conflict was hand to hand. Some of the 
working party, snatching up their guns, delivered a single 
fire and fled. Two of the legion dragoons were slain at the 
mouth of the howitzer, several wounded. But the ofTicera 
remained unhurt. Coates, with several of the British, cov- 
ered by a wagon, opposed them with their swords, while 
17 



25S LIFE OF MARION. 

their lioDps were hurrying forwiiril to wliore they could 
lUsjjlay. JMeanwhile, [jCo^ ^vith the rest ol' the legion, had 
reached the briJ!.';e, which they proccHHietl to re[)air. A mo- 
mentary pause tor relU'ction, a ghmce before and around 
them, revealed to Armstrong and j\hicaidey, the fact that 
they were ahnost alone, unsupported by their party, and 
with the British recovering themselves in front. They re- 
llected that, only while the liritish othcers were in their 
rear, should they be secure from the fire of the enemy in 
front ;anil,urging their way through the Hying soldiers on the 
causeway, they wheeled into the woods on their left, and 
escaped by heading the stream. Had they been followed 
by the whole party, boldly charging across the bridge, the 
entire force of the eneniy must havi* laid down their arms. 
The British were so crowded in the lane and causeway, 
in such inextricable confusion, without room to dis])lay or 
to defend themselves, that they must have yielded by sj)on- 
taneous movement to avoid being cut to pieces. The 
re])roach lies heavily against the halting cavalry, that could 
leave to their fate the brave fellows who had crossed the 
bridge. 

Colonel Coates dared not longer trust himself in the open 
country in the face of a cavalry so active and powerful. 
Retiring to Shubrick's plantation, after destroying the 
bridge, he resolved to defend himself under cover of the 
buildings These were situated on a rising ground, and 
consisted of a dwelling-house of two stories, witl^ outhouses 
and fences. They allbrded security against cavalry, and a 
good covering from the American marksmen. 

It was not tills o'clock, P. M., that Sumter, with the 
main body of the Americans, reached the ground. He 
founil the British drawn up in a square in front of the house, 
and ready to receive him. As he had very few bayonets, 
lo nuu'ch directly up to tlie attack would liave been out of 



1. I F 1;: OF JSl A U I N 



2.09 



the qiR'.^lion. lie divided his force into three hodiey. Hi.s 
own brigade, K'd by Cols. MicKHeton ami Polk, Tu^dorand 
Laey, advanced in front, under shelter of a line of ne!j;ro 
houses, which they were ordered to occu[)y. Marion's 
brigade, thrown into two divisions, W'as ordered to advance 
on the right of the British, where there was no shelter but 
that of fences, and those within forty or fifty yards of the 
liouses held by the enemy. The cavalry constituted a 
reserve, to cover the infantry from pursuit. 

Sumter's brigade soon gained the negro houses, from 
whence they delivered their rides with great ellect. Col. 
Taylor with about forty-five men of his regiment, pressing 
forward to the fences on the enemy's left, drew upon him 
the hayonets of the British, before which they yielded. 
Marion's men, in the meantime, seeing the danger of Tay- 
lord's party, with a degree of firmness and gallantry which 
would have done honor to any soldiers, rushed through a 
galling fire and extricated them ; and, notwithstanding the 
imperfect covering aflbrded them by the rail fence along 
which they ranged themselves, they continued to fight and 
fire as long as a single charge of amnmnition remained with 
the corps. The brunt of the battle fell upon them, and they 
maintain(;d in this, the reputation acquired in many a border 
struggle. More than fifty men, all of Marion's, were killed 
or wounded in this aflaii^, but the loss did not dispirit the 
survivors. They were drawn ofl' in perfect order, only 
when their ammunition was expended. 

The ligfit lasted three hours, from four o'clock until dark 
Seventy of the British fell. But the want of the field-piece 
left behind with Singleton, and the failure of their ammu- 
nition, not a charge of which remained with the Am(>ricans 
at the close of the fight, saved the enemy, whose infaniry 
alone, according to Sumter, was superior to his whole force. 
The Americunj attacked them witii half their number 



260 LIFE OF MARION. 

But Coates held his position, and tidings of the appro:icix 
of Rawdon, who had left Orangeburg, prompted Sumter to 
retreat across the Santee. His expedition had not been 
successful. It does not concern us to inquire by whose 
errors or defects it failed. Enough, that, in all things, 
where Marion and his men were concerned, they acquitted 
themselves in a manner calculated to sustain their former 
reputation. The attack upon Coates at the house, we are 
told, was made against Marion's opinion, who blamed Sum- 
ter for wasting the lives of his men. Without a field-piece, 
it was scarcely possible that an inferior should have suc- 
ceeded against a superior force, in a strong position. Sum- 
ter was courageous to rashness. His spirit could not be 
restrained in sight of the enemy. With a brave force at 
his command, he was not satisfied to be idle, and his cour- 
age was frequently exercised at the expense of his judg- 
ment. The men of Marion complained that they had been 
exposed unnecessarily in the conflict. It is certain that 
they were the only sufferers. Had Sumter but waited for 
his artillery, and simply held the enemy in check, the vic- 
tory must have been complete, and this victory was of the 
last importance to the Americans, Itvv^ould have involved 
the loss of one entire British regiment, at a moment when, 
two others having been required at New York from South 
Carolina, the force remaining with Rawdon would have 
been barely adequate to the retention of Charleston. This 
necessity would have withdrawn the latter general at once 
from Orangeburg, and the subsequent bloody battle of 
Eutaw would have been averted accordingly. Greene, 
speaking of this combat, writes : — '* The affair was clever, 
but by no means equal to what it ought to have been. The 
whole regiment of six hundred men would have been cap- 
tured, if General Sumter had not detailed too much, and 
had not mistaken a covering party for an attack." It may 



LIFE OF MARION. 261 

De added, that the party actually engaged in the attack on 
Ooates, were almost exclusively South Carolina militia. 
Under favorite leaders they had betrayed no such apprehen- 
sions as are natural enough to men who lack confidence in 
themselves and captains. They had shown the courage of 
veterans, though they may have failed of *nat entire suc- 
cess which is usuall}?^ supposed to follow from a leteran 
experience. 



CHAPTER XVL 

Marion moves seciet.y to Pon-Pon. — Rescues Col. Harden. — be* 
feats Major Frazier at Parker's Ferry. — Joins the main army 
under Greene. — Battle of Eutaw, 

After i]^ battle of Quinby the joint forces of Sumter and 
Marion were separated. The former retired up the Con- 
garee ; the latter took charge of the country on the Santee ; 
while Greene placed himself in a camp of rest at the High 
Hills in the district which has since taken the name of Sum- 
ter. His troops were in a wretched state of incapacity, in con- 
sequence of sickness. The region to which he retired was fa- 
mous for its salubrity, and the intense heat of the season effec- 
tually forbade much military activity. The opposing generals 
were content to watch each other. It was while he held this 
position that Col. Hayne, of the militia, was executed as a 
traitor by the British. The case of this gentleman was 
that of many in the State. He had taken parole at a time 
when the country was overrun by the enemy. This parole 
was subsequently withdrawn by the conquerors, when 
they supposed the people to have been subdued, and de- 
sired their services as militia. But the British were in 
turn driven from the field. The Americans acquired the 
ascendant. The section of the country in which Hayne 
resided was overrun by a detachment of Marion, under 
Col. Harden, and Hayne availed himself of the occasion 
to take up arms for his country. He was a popular gen- 
tleman, and soon gathered a strong party of militia. His 
career was distinguished by some small successes, and, with 



LIFE OF MARION ^63 



a party of Col. Harden's horse, by a sudden dash in the 
vicinity of Charleston, he succeeded in taking prisonex 
General Williamson, formerly of the Americans, whose life 
was forfeited to the country. The capture of Williamson 
put all the available cavalry of the British into activity, and 
by an unfortunate indiscretion, Hayne suffered himself to 
be overtaken. His execution soon followed his capture 
This was a proceeding equally barbarous and unjustifiable— 
neither sanctioned by policy nor propriety. It took place 
after a brief examination, and without any trial. The pro- 
ceeding was equally unauthorized by civil and martial law 
It was^'not long before this, as the reader will remember^ 
that Marion, in consequence of the execution of some of 
his men by the British, had threatened them with retalia- 
tion. Greene, who knew the decisive character of Marion, 
and was apprehensive that this wanton crime would render 
him as prompt as he was fearless, in avenging it, thus 
writes to prevent him : " Do not take any measures in the 
matter towards retaliation, for I do not intend to retaliate 
upon the Tory officers, but the British. It is my intention 
to demand the reasons of the Colonel's being put to death ; 
and if they are unsatisfactory, as I am sure they will be, 
and if they refuse to make satisfaction, as I expect they 
will, to publish my intention of giving no quarter to British 
officers, of any ranlc, that fall into our hands. Should we 
attempt to retaliate upon their militia officers, I am sure 
they would persevere in the measure, in order to increase 
the animosity between the Whigs and Tories, that they 
might stand idle spectators, and see them butcher each 
other. As I do not wish my intentions known to the 
enemy but through an official channel, and as this will he 
delayed for some few days to give our friends in St. Augus* 
tine time to get off, I wish you not to mention the matter to 
any mortal out of your family.'- 



264 L 1 F E O F M A R I N 

Weems represents Marion as being greatly averse to this 
measure of retaliation, and as having censured those officers 
of the regular army who demanded of Greene the adoption 
of this remedy. But the biographer wrote rather from his 
own benevolent nature than from the record. Marion had 
no scruples about the necessity of such a measure in parti- 
cular cases ; and, however much he might wish to avoid 
its execution, he was yet fully prepared to adopt it when- 
ever the policy of the proceeding was unquestionable. 
Fortunately, the decisive resolutions which were expressed 
by the Americans, their increasing successes, the fact that 
they had several British officers of reputation in their 
hands, — all conspired to produce, in the minds of the 
enemy, a greater regard to the rights of justice and hu- 
manity. As retaliation in such cases is justifiable only as 
a preventive and remedial measure, it now ceased to be 
necessary ; and,with proper views of the affair, the resolves 
of Greene and Marion were suffered to remain unexpunged, 
in proof of their indignation, rather than their purpose. 
But a few days had elapsed after the execution of Hayne 
when a party of Marion's men, under Captain Ervine, fell 
in with and captured a favorite British officer. Captain 
Campbell, with two subalterns, in charge of a convoying 
detachment. They were at once committed to the provost 
guard, and soon communicated their apprehensions to 
Charleston. A meeting of British officers was held and 
their dissatisfaction at this new feature, introduced into the 
warfare of the country, was expressed in such terms, as 
contributed, along with the prompt proceedings of the 
Americans, to bring Balfour, the commandant of Charles 
ton, under whose authority the execution of Hayne had 
taken place, to a better sense of mercy and prudence. We 
shall have no farther occasion to refer to these proceedings. 
It is enough that the threat of retaliation, followed up by 



LIFE OF MARION. 265 

such decided niovcments as left no doubt of the resolution 
of the Americans, produced all the beneficial efiects which 
could have accrued from its execution. 

The incursion of Sumter and Marion into the low coun- 
try, drew Lord Rawdon from Orangeburg, with five hun- 
dred men, to Charleston, from which place, after lingering 
just long enough to witness the death of Hayne, he sailed 
for New York. He left Lieut.-Col. Stewart in command 
at Orangeburg. From this post, Stewart moved to IMc- 
Cord's ferry, on the Congaree, on the south side of which 
he took post, amidst the hills near the confluence of the 
Wateree and Congaree. Greene's camp lay directly op- 
posite, and the fires of the mutual armies were distinctly 
seen by each other. The heat of the weather suspended 
all regular military operations. Two large rivers inter- 
vening secured each from sudden attack, and their toils 
were confined to operating in small detachments, for forag- 
ing or convoy. In this service, on the American side. Col 
Washington was detached — as soon as the course of 
Stewart was ascertained — down the country across the 
Santee ; Lee was sent upward, along the north bank of the 
Congaree ; the latter to operate with Col. Henderson, then 
in command of Sumter's brigade, at Fridig's ftrry, and the 
former to strike at the communication between the enemy 
and Charleston, and to co-operate with Marion and Maham, 
in covering the lower Santee. Col. Harden, at the same 
time, with a body of mounted militia, had it in charge to 
straiten the enemy upon the Edisto. 

The activity of these several parties and their frequent 
successes, were such that Stewart was compelled to look 
for his supplies to the country below him. This necessity 
caused him to re-establish and strengthen the post at Dor- 
chester, in order to cover the communication by Orange- 
burg ; and to place a force at Fairlawn, near the head of 



266 LIFEOFMARION 

the navigation of Cooper river, from which supplies, /ram 
Charleston were transported to head-quarters over land. 
As this route was watched by Marion, Washington and 
Mahanij the British commander was compelled, in order 
to secure the means of communication with the opposite 
bank of the Congaree and to draw supplies from thence, 
to transport boats adapted to the purpose, on wagon- 
wheels, from Fairlawn to the Congaree. 

Such were the relative positions of the two armies until 
the 22d of August, when Greene, calling in all his detach- 
ments except those under Marion, Maham and Harden, 
broke up his camp at the High Hills and proceeded to 
Howell's ferry, on the Congaree, with the intention im- 
mediately to cross it and advance upon Stewart. That ofR- 
cer, on hearing of the movement of the Americans, fell 
back upon his reinforcements and convoys, and took up 
a strong position at the Eutaw Springs. 

Meanwhile, Marion disappeared from the Santee on one 
of those secret expeditions in which his wonderful celerity 
and adroit management conducted his men so frequently to 
success. His present aim was the Pon-Pon. Col. Harden 
was at this time in that quarter, and closely pressed by a 
superior British force of five hundred men. Detaching a 
party of mounted militia to the neighborhood of Dorches- 
ter and Monk's Corner, as much to divert the enemy from 
his own movements as with any other object, he proceeded 
with two hundred picked men on his secret expedition. 

By a forced march, he crossed the country from St. 
Stephen's to the Edisto— passing through both lines of the 
enemy's communication with Charleston, and reached 
Harden — -a distance of one hundred miles — in season for 
his relief. His approach and arrival were totally unsus- 
pected by the enemy, for whom he prepared an amoush m 



LIFE OF MARION. 267 

a s-wamp near Parker's ferry. A s:iiall body of his swift- 
est horse were sent out to decoy the British into the 
snare. A white feather, rather too conspicuously worn by. 
one of his men in ambush, had nearly defeated his design 
Some Tories passing, discovered this unnec^ssar}'- plumage, 
and one of them fired upon the wearer. This led to an 
exchange of shots ; but Major Frazier, by whom the British 
were commanded, assuming the party thus concealed to be 
that of Harden, whom it was his aim to find, pursued the 
horsemen whom Marion had sent out to entice him to the 
ambuscade. His cavalry was led at full charge within 
forty yards of the concealed riflemen. A deadly fire was 
poured in, under which the British recoiled ; attempting t :. 
wheel and charge the swamp, they received a second ; and 
closely wedged as their men were upon the narrow cause- 
way over which they came, every shot bore its warrant. 
There was no retreating, no penetrating the ambush, and 
the British cavalry had but to go forward, along the road 
to the ferry, thus passing the entire line of the ambuscade. 
The corps was most effectually thinned by the time it got 
beyond rifle reach ; and still more fatal would have been 
the affray to the advancing infantry of Frazier — a large 
body, with a field-piece — but for one of those lamentable 
deficienciesof materiel, which so frequently plucked com- 
plete success from the grasp of the Americans. The am- 
munition of our partisan failed him, and he was compelled 
to yield the ground to the enemy, who was otherwise 
wholly in his power. The British loss was unknown 
Twenty-seven dead horses were counted on the field the 
day after ; the men had all been buried. As Marion's men 
fired with either a ball or heavy buck-shot, and as nore 
would aim at horses, the loss of the British must have been 
very gr< at. Nine days after, at the battle of Eutaw, thejr 
biul feM cavalry in the field. 



268 LIFE OF MARION. 

But, tfiough the victory was incomplete, Marion had 
attained his object. He had rescued Harden, without loss 
to himself. He had traversed more than two hundred 
miles of country, through a region held by the enemy ; 
returned by the same route, — delivered his prisoners to the 
care of Maham, — returned twenty miles below the Eu- 
taw, in order to watch the communication between that 
place and Fairlawn — then, at the call of Greene, made a 
circuit and passed the British army, so as to reach a posi- 
tion on the south side of the Santee, in the track of Greene's 
advance ; and all this in the brief compass of six days. 
Yet, of these movements, which merited and received the 
particular thanks of Congress, we are without any data in 
our records. The complimentary resolution of Congress 
fixes the battle at Parker's ferry on the 31st August. 

Seventeen miles from Eutaw Springs, at Laurens' planta- 
tion, Marion effected a junction with the commander-in- 
•chief. Greene was pressing forward to a meeting with 
Stewart. Of this object the latter seemed to have been 
[}fofoundly ignorant up to this moment. But the day be- 
fore, he knew that jMarion was twenty miles below him 
and did not conjecture that, by marching the whole night 
he had thrown himself above him to join with Greene 
\Vithout this junction he had no apprehension that the 
latter, with an inferior force, would venture an attack upon 
him, in the strong position which he held. On the after- 
noon of the 7th September, the army reached Burdell's 
tavern on the Congaree road, seven miles from the Eutaws. 
The force under Greene amounted to two thousand men^ 
all told. That under General Stewart was probably about 
the same It is estimated to have been two thousand three 
hundred. These were all disciplined troops, and a large 
proportion of the old regiments consisted of native marks- 
men from the ranks of the loyalists. In cavalry, Greene 



LIFE OF MABION. 26} 

nad the advantage, but a great portion of his men were 
militia. In artillery the two armies were equal. The 
British had five and the Americans four pieces. 

The memorable battle of the Eutaw Springs was fought 
on the 8th September. At four o'clock in the morning 
the Americans moved from their bivouack down to the 
attack. The day was fair, but intensely hot ; but the co:n- 
batants at the commencement of the battle were relieved 
by the shade of the woods. The South Carolina State 
troops and Lee's legion formed the advance under Colonel 
Henderson. The militia, both of South and North Caro- 
lina, moved next, under Marion. Then followed the regu- 
lars under Gen. Sumner; and the rear was closed by Wash- 
ington's cavalry, and Kirkwood's Delawares, under Col. 
Washington. The artillery moved ketween the columns. 
The troops were thus arranged in reference to their order 
of battle. 

Of the approach of the Americans Stewart was wholly 
ignorant on the evening of the 7th. The only patrol which 
had been sent up the Congaree road had been captured 
during the night, and Stewart himself says, in excuse, that 
*' the Americans had waylaid the swamps and passes in 
such a manner as to cut off every avenue of intelligence." 
So entirely secure had he felt himself in his position, 
which was a strong one, that he had sent out an unarmed 
party of one hundred men, in the very direction of Greene's 
advance, to gather sweet potatoes. This party, called a 
rootmg party, after advancing about three miles, had pur- 
sued a road to the right, which led to the river plantations. 
Advised, by two deserters from the North Carolina militia, 
of Greene's approach, Stewart dispatched Captain Coffin, 
with his cavalry, to recall the rooting party, and to recon- 
noitre the Americans. Before Coffin could effect either 
object, he encounterei! the American aivance, and, in total 



270 LIFE OF MARION. 

Ignorance of its strength, charged it with a degree l£ con- 
fidence, which led Greene to imagine that Stewart with 
his whole army was at hand. Coffin was easily repulsed ; 
the rooting party, alarmed by the firing, hurried from the 
woods, and were all made prisoners. Meanwhile, Stewart, 
now thoroughly aware of the proximity of his enemv 
pushed forward a detachment of infantry, a mile distant 
from the Eutaw, with orders to engage and detain the 
American troops while he formed his men and prepared 
for battle But Greene, whom the audacity of Coffin had 
deceived, halted his columns where they stood, and pro- 
ceeded to display them. The column of militia formed 
the first line ; the South Carolina militia in equal divisions 
on the right and left, and the North Carolinians in the centre. 
General Marion commanded the right. General Pickens 
the left, and Col. Malmedy the cer+re. Col. Henderson, 
with the State troops, including Sumter's brigade, covered 
the left of this line, and Col. Lee, with his legion, the 
right. The column of regulars also displayed in one line 
The North Carolinians, under Gen. Sumner, occupied the 
right ; the Marylanders, under Col. Williams, the left ; 
the Virginians, under Col. Campbell, the centre. Two 
pieces of artillery were assigned to each line. Col. Wash- 
ington moved in column in the rear, keeping himself in 
reserve. In this order, the troops pressed forward slowly, 
as the country on both sides of the road was in wood, and 
prevented much expedition. Moving thus, the first line 
encountered the advance parties of Stewart, and drove them 
before it, until the entire line of the British army, displayed 
in ordgr of battle, received, and gave shelter to, the fugi- 
tives. 

The troops of Stewart were drawn up in one line at 
about two hundred yards west of the Eutaw Springs ; the 
Buffs on the right, Cruger's corps in the centre, and the 



LIFE OF MARION. 271 

63il and 64lh on the left. Major Marjorioanks, with three 
hundred of his best troops, was strongly posted, so as to 
flank the Buffs, under shelter of a thick wood on the Eutaw 
Creek, which covered the right of the whole line ; the 
left was, in military j9ar/awcc, ' in air' — resting in the wood, 
and supi^orted by Coffin's cavalry — reduced to a very small 
luimber— and a respectable detachment of infantry. His 
gicand was altogether in wood, but, at a small distance, in 
the rear of his line, was an open field, on the edge of which 
stood a strong brick dwelling, with offices, out-houses, and 
a palisadoed garden, in all of which a stout resistance might 
be made. On this brick house, Stewart had already cast 
his eyes, as the means of saving his army in any extreme 
necessity. The house was of two stories, and abundantly 
strong to resist small arms. Its windows commanded all 
the open space around. Major Sheridan was ordered to 
throw himself into it, with his command, in case of an un- 
favorable issue to the fight ; and in this position to overawe 
the Americans, and cover the army. Feeble in cavalry, 
in which the Americans were strong, there was no other 
means for retreat and support in the event of a capital mis- 
fortune. 

The American approach was from the west. The first 
line, consisting wholly of militia, went into action, and 
continued in it with a coolness and stubbornness which, 
says Greene, " would have graced the veterans of the great 
king of Prussia." Such conduct was almost invariable on 
tlieir part, wherever Marion or Pickens commanded. 
vSteadily and without faltering, they advanced into the hot- 
test of the enemy's fire, with shouts and exhortations, 
which were not lessened by the continual fall of their com- 
rades around them. Their line was all the while receiv- 
ing the fire of double their number — they were opposed to 
the entire line of the Britit^h. The oarnage was severe, 



272 LIFE OF MARION. 

and very equal on both sides The two pieces of artillery 
were at length disabled, and after exchanging seventeen 
rounds vi^ith the enemy, the militia began to falter. Gen. 
Sumner was ordered up to their support, with the North 
Carolina Continentals. With the advance of Sumner, 
Stewart brought into line on his left, the infantry of his 
reserve, and the battle, between fresh troops on looth sides, 
raged with renewed fury. From the commencement of the 
action, the infantry of the American covering parties, right and 
left, had been steadily engaged. The State troops, imder 
Henderson, had suffered greatly. The American left, which 
they flanked, falling far s-hort of the British right in length, 
they were exposed to the oblique fire of a large proportion 
of the British left, and particularly of the battalion com- 
manded by Marjoribanks. Henderson himself was disa- 
bled, and his men, denied to charge the enemy under 
whose fire they were suffering — for they were necessary 
to the safety of the artillery and militia — were subjected to 
a trial of their constancy, which very few soldiers, what- 
ever may have been their training, would have borne so 
well. 

Meanwhile, the brigade of Sumner recoiled from the 
fire of the greater numbers opposed to them in front. At 
this sight, the exultation of the British Left hurried them, 
forward, assured of certain victory. Their line became 
deranged, and the American general, promptly availing 
himself of the opportunity, issued his command to Col. 
Williams, who had in charge the remaining portion of his 
second line, to " advance, and sweep the field with his 
bayonets." The two battalions obeyed the order with a 
shout. The Virginians, when within forty yards of the 
enemy, poured in a destructive fire, and the w^hole second 
line with trailed arms pressed on to the charge. The ad- 
vanced left of the British recoiled, and, just at this junt;- 



LIFE OF MARION. 273 

ture, the legion infantry delivered an enfilading fire, which 
threw them into irretrievable disorder. The British cen- 
tre, pressed upon by the fugitives, began to give way from 
left to right, and the fire of the Marylanders, poured in at 
thfc proper moment, completed their disaster. Their 
\v hole front yielded, and the shouts of the Americans de- 
clared their exultation, as at a victory already won. Un- 
questionably, the day was theirs. The enemy had fled 
from the battle. But a new one was to begin, in which 
victory, at present so secure, was taken -from their grasp. 
In the effort to prevent the enemy from rallying, and to 
cut him off from the brick dwelling, into w^hich Sheridan, 
obeying the commands of Stewart, had thrown himself as 
soon as the necessity became apparent, the greatest loss of 
the Americans was sustained. Marjoribanks still held his 
ground, with his entire battalion, in the thick w^oods which 
skirted Eutaw Creek, and so well covered was he that, 
in an attempt to penetrate with his cavalry, Col. Washing- 
ton became entangled in the thicket, and fell into the hands 
of the enemy, while his men suffered severely from their 
fire, and his troop was routed. A second time were they 
brought to the charge, but with no better success than 
before. Marjoribanks still maintained his position, watch- 
ing the moment when to emerge from the thicket with the 
best prospect of safety to himself, and hurt to the Ameri- 
cans. He was soon to have an opportunity. 

The British line had yielded and broken before the 
American bayonet. The latter pressed closely upon theii 
heels, made many prisoners, and might have cut them off, 
and, by isolating Marjoribanks, forced him to surrender, 
but for one of those occurrences which so frequently in 
battle change the fortunes of the day. The course of the 
fugitives led them directly through the British encaiujj- 
ment. There everything wan given up for lost. Tlie 
18 



274 LIFE OF MARION. 

tents were all standing, the comni.ssaries had abandoned 
their stores, and the numerous retainers of the army were 
already in full flight for Charleston. When the pursuing 
Americans penetrated the encampment, they lost sight of 
the fugitives in the contemplatbn of various objects of 
temptation which, to a half-naked and iitilf-starved soldierj'^, 
were irresistible. The pursuit was forborne ; the Ame- 
ricans fastened upon the liquors and refreshments scattered 
among the tents : and the v/hole army, with the exception 
of one or two corps, then fell into confusion. Yet, so 
closely had the British been pursued to the shelter of the 
house, and so narrow was their escape, that some of the 
Americans had nearly obtained entrance with them. It 
was only by shutting the door against some of their own 
officers, that they made it secure against the enemi^ ; and 
in retiring from the house, now a citadel, the Americans 
only found safety by interposing the bodies of the officers, 
thus made captive at the entrance, between themselves 
and the fire from the windows. One ludicrous incident 
is told of Major Barry, who w^as taken in this manner, and 
made use of as a shield by Lieut. Manning, as he retreated 
from before the house, which otherwise he could not have 
left in safety. Without struggling or making the slightest 
effort for his extrication, Barry only enumerated his own 
titles with a profound solemnity. " Sir, I am Henry Barry, 
Deputy Adjutant General of the British army, Secretary to 
the Commandant of Charleston, Captain in the 52d regi- 
ment," &c. " Enough, enough, sir," answered Manning. 
'' You are just the man I was looking for. Fear nothing : 
you shall screen me from danger, and I shall take special 
care of you." Manning escaped in safety with his prisoner. 
But there WTre many brave officers far less fortunate. 
Many were destined to perish in the miserable after 
struggle, who had gone gloriously through the greater 



LIFE OF -MARION. 275 

dangers of the fight. The British tents had done ,vhat the 
British arms had failed to do. Victory was lost to the 
Americans. Scattered throughout the encampment, the 
soldiers became utterly unmanageable. The enemy, mean- 
while, had partially recovered from their panic. The party 
of Sheridan were in possession of the house. Another 
party held possession of the palisaded garden. Coffin was 
active with his remnant of cavalry, and Marjoribanks still 
held a formidable position in the thicket on Eutaw Creek. 
From the upper windows of the house, the musketry of 
Sheridan traversed the encampment, which the Americans 
now trembled to leave, lest they should suffer from their 
fire. Every head that emerged from a tent was a mark for 
their bullets. Aware, by this time, of the extent of his 
misfortune, Greene ordered a retreat, which Hampton's 
cavalry was commanded to cover. In the execution of 
this duty Hampton encountered the British cavalry. A 
sharp action ensued; the latter fled, and in the ardor of 
pursuit, the American horse approached so near to the 
position of Marjoribanks as to receive a murderous fire, 
which prostrated one-third of their number and scattered 
the rest. Before they could again be brought together, 
Marjoribanks, seizing upon the chance afforded by a tern 
porary clearing of the field, emerged from the wood, at a 
moment which enabled him to put a successful finish to 
the labors of the day. Two six-pounders, which had been 
abandoned by the British, had been turned upon the house 
by the Americans ; but in their eagerness they had broun-ht 
the pieces within the range of fire from the windows of t'he 
house. The artillerists had been shot down ; and, in the 
absence of the American cavalry, Marjoribanks was en- 
abled to recover them. Wheeling them under the walls 
of the hftuse, he took a contiguous position, his own beino 
almost the onl^ portion of the British army still in a condit 
turn to renew the action. 7'he Americans yielded the 



276 LIFE OF MARION. 

ground about the house, but were promptly rallied in tha 
skirts of the wood. The British were too much crippled to 
pursue ; and the respite was gladly seized upon by tiie 
Americans to plunge headlong into the neighboring ponds, 
to cool the heat and satisfy the intense thirst occasioned by 
such efforts under the burning sun of a Carolina September. 
Both sides claimed the victory, and with equal reason. In 
the first part of the day it was clearly with the Americans 
They had driven the enemy from the field, in panic and 
with great loss. They were in possession of five hundred 
prisoners, nearly all of whom they retained. They had 
taken two out of the five pieces of artillery which the Bri- 
tish had brought into the action ; and, something more to 
boastjconsidering the proverbial renown of the British with 
this weapon, it was at the point of the bayonet that they 
had swept the enemy from the ground. The British took 
shelter in a fortress from which the Americans were re- 
pulsed. It is of no consequence to assert that the latter 
might have taken it. They might — it was in their power 
to have done so, — but they did not ; and the promptitude 
with which the British availed themselves of this -securi- 
ty, entitles them to the merit which they claim. We are 
constrained to think that the business of the field was 
strangely blundered by the Americans in the sequel. This 
may have arisen from the carnage made at this period 
among their officers, particularly in their persevering, but 
futile endeavors, to extricate the soldiers from their tents. 
Under cover of a contiguous barn, the artillery presented 
the means of forcing the building and reducing the garrison 
to submission. The attempts made at this object, by this 
arm of the Americans, were rash, badly counselled, and 
exposed to danger v/ithout adequate protection. The Bri- 
tish were saved by this error, by the luxuries contained 
within their tents, by the spirited •behavior of Coffin, aiui 
the cool and steady valor of Marjoribanks. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Retrtiat of the British from Eutaw. — Pursuit of thei. i>y Mancn 
and Lee. — Close of the year. 

That the results of victory lay with the Am. /icans, was 
shown by the events of the ensuing day. Leaving his 
dead unburied, seventy of his wounded to the enemy, 
breaking up a thousand stand of arms, and destroying his 
stores. General Stewart commenced a precipitate retreat 
towards Fairlawn. The British power in Carolina was 
completely prostrated by this battle. Five hundred pri- 
soners fell into the hands of the Americans, and it was 
Greene's purpose to have renewed the fight on the next day ; 
but the flight of Stewart anticipated and baffled his inten- 
tions. He commenced pursuit, and detached Marion and 
Lee, by^ a circuitous route, to gain the enemy's front, and 
interpose themselves between him and the post at Fair- 
lawn, from which Major M' Arthur had been summoned 
with five hundred men, to cover the retreat. But this 
plan was unsuccessful. So precipitate was the marcl 
of Stewart, and so happily concerted the movements of the 
two British officers, that they effected a junction before 
Marion and Lee could reach Ferguson's Swamp, their 
place of destination. The cavalry of the enemy's rear- 
guard fell into the hands of the Americans, but Stewart 
was beyond pursuit. In this flight, amongst others, the 
British lost the brave Major Marjoribanks, who died of a 
fever, and iras bujied on the road. While they adnutted 



278 LIFE OF MARION. 

a loss, in killed, wounded, and missing, of lialf the number 
brought into the field, that of the Americans was nearly 
equally severe, anc fell with particular severity upon the 
oiFicers. Sixty-one of these were killed or wounded ; 
twenty-one died upon the field. The returns exhibit a 
loss of one hundred and fourteen rank and file killed, three 
hundred wounded, and forty missing — an aggregate ex- 
ceeding a fourth of all who marched into battle Many of 
Marion's men were killed, though not so many as he lost 
in the affair of Quinby. Among his officers, Capt. John 
Simons, of Pedee, was slain, and Col. Hugh Horry 
wounded. 

Greene retired to the high hills of Santee, while Marion 
proceeded to encamp at Payne's plantation, on Santee 
river swamp. This was one of his favorite places of re- 
treat. Here, in the depths of a cane-brake, within a quar- 
ter of a mile from the Santee, he made himself a clearing, 
" much," says Judge James, '' to his liking," and, with the 
canes, thatched the rude huts of his men. The high land 
was skirted by lakes, which rendered the approach difii-' 
cult; and here, as in perfect security, he found forage for 
his horses, and provisions in abundance for his men. Such 
a place of encampment, at such a season, would hardly 
commend itself now to the citizen of Carolina. The 
modes and objects of culture, and probably the climate, 
have undergone a change. The time was autumn, the 
most sickly period of our year ; and, to sleep in such a re- 
gion now, even for a single night, would be considered 
certain death to the white man. It does not seem, at that 
period, that much apprehension of malaria was felt. 

But Marion did not linger long in any one situation. 
Hearing that the British were about to send their wound- 
ed from Fairlawn to Charleston, his restless enterprise 
prompted him to aim at the caprt're of the detachment 



LIFE OF IMARION 279 

Moving rapidly by night, he threw himself below tlie form- 
er place, on the opposite bank of the river, and would 
certainly have intercepted them, ]3ut fo" a slave of one of 
the plantations, who, hastening" to he British camp, 
reported his proximity. The arrival of a superior force 
compelled him to steal away with a caution like that which 
marked his approach. 

The command of the British army, in consequence of a 
wound received by General Stewart at Eutaw, had de- 
volved on Major Doyle. This army, recruited b3^the force 
of M' Arthur, was still, after all its losses, fully two thousand 
men. That of Greene, reduced by wounds and sickness.^ 
could not muster one thousand fit for duty. His cavalry 
had been greatly thinned by the late battle, and it was not 
until the cavalry of Sumter's brigade could be brought 
together, with Marion's mounted infantry, and the horse of 
Horry and Maham, that the superiority of the American 
general could be restored. Doyle had taken post at 
Fludd's plantation, three miles above Nelson's Ferry, on 
the Santee, with the main body of the British ; M' Arthur 
held the post at Fairlawn, with a detachment of three 
hundred. Doyle, with some instinctive notion that his 
time w^s short, busied himself in a career of plunder M^hich 
threatened to strip the plantations south of the Santee and 
Congaree, and westward to the Edisto, not only of every 
negro which they contained, but of all other kinds of pro- 
perty. Over this region, the feebleness of the American 
forces, and theirpresent deficiency in cavalry, gave him abiiost 
entire control. The opposite banks were guarded by Ma- 
rion and Hampton, who afforded protection tc everything 
that could be moved across, and presented themselves at 
every point to the enemy, whenever he attempted the pas- 
sage of the river. Marion was at this time an invalid, but, 
however much he might need, he asked for no repose or 



^80 LIFE OF MARION, 

exemption from service when the enemy was in the field. 
His force was also reduced by sickness. Col. Mayhani 
alone had no less than one hundred men unfit for duty. 
Other circumstances kept the militia from coming to the 
summons of Marion. Those on the borders of North Caro- 
lina were detained to meet and suppress a rising of the 
loyalists of that State under Hector M'Neil, and even those ' 
in his camp were unprovided with ammunition. Early in 
October, we find him writing pressingly to General Greene 
and Governor Rutledge for a supply. Rutledge answers, 
on the 10th of that month, " I wish to God it was in my 
power to send you ammunition instantly, but it is not." 
Col. Otho Williams, in the temporary absence of Greene, 
writes, in answer : " Our stock of ammunition is quite ex- 
hausted—we have not an ounce of powder, or a cartridge, 
in store." And yet, it was under similar deficiencies that 
the men of Marion had labored from the beginning ; and 
half the time had they gone into battle with less than 
three rounds of powder to a man. Williams further writes : 
" His Excellency, Governor Rutledge, has intimated that 
you meditate an expedition over the Santee. In making 
your determination, if it is not settled, permit me to recom- 
mend to your consideration, that the General depends upon 
you entirely for intelligence of the enemy'^s motions.'''' The 
activity of our partisan, his elasticity of character, his inde- 
pendence of resources, and usefulness to others, are all to 
be gathered from these two extracts. 

Late in September of this year. Governor Rutledge 
issued a proclamation, requiring that the disaffected should 
come in within thirty days, and perform a six months *tour 
of duty. The condition of pardon for all previous ofiencea 
was attached to this requisition. The idea of this procla- 
mation was borrowed from similar ones of the British gene- 
rals, when they first overran the country. The object was 



L I F E F M A R I N 28 1 

to secure those persons, of whom there were nunibors, 
who, in tlie decHning fortunes of the British, were nbt un- 
wilhng to turn upon and rend their old friends, no longer 
capable of protecting or providing fcT them. The measure 
was of doubtful policy, since it appealed to the basest feel- 
ings of humanity. Its effects were considerable, however ; 
numbers presented themselves in the ranks of Marion, 
showing finely in contrast with his ancient and half-naked 
veterans. '* Their new white feathers," says James, 
" fine coats, new saddles and bridles, and famished horses, 
showed that they had lately been in the British garrison." 
Their appearance, not to speak of their previous career, 
naturally inspired distrust in the minds of those whose scars 
and nakedness were the proofs of their virtue ; and ano • 
ther measure, which was adopted about this time, had 
the further effect of impairing the value of that efhcient 
brigade upon which Marion had been accustomed to 
rely. In order to promote the growth of the new regi- 
ments, it was permitted to all such persons as could hire 
a substitute, to claim exemption from military duty 
This was a temptation too great to be resisted by those 
old soldiers who had served from the first, who had left 
their families in wretched lodgings, in poverty and distress, 
and from whose immediate neighborhood the presence of 
the war was withdrawn. The six months men were 
easily bought up to fill their places. The result was 
very injurious to the morale of the brigade, and the evil 
effects of the measure were soon felt in the imperfect 
subordination, the deficient firmness, and the unprincipled 
character of the new recruits. It was productive also 
of differences between two of Marion's best officers^^ 
Horry and Maham, which wrought evil consequences 
t3 the country. Being commissioned on the same days as 
colonels of the new regiments, they quarrelled about pre 



282 LIFE OF MARION. 

cedency. The fruits of this difference will be seen here 
after. 

As the winter set in, the army began to recruit, and 
the militia to embody under their several commanders. 
Greene was joined by Cols. Shelby and Sevier, with five 
hundred mountaineers, and these, with Horry and May- 
ham, w^ere ordered to place themselves under Marion, to 
operate in the country between the Santee and Charleston 
Sumter, at the same time, with a brigade of State iioops 
and some companies of militia, Vv^as ordered to take post at 
Orangeburg, to cover the country from the inroads of the 
loyalists from Charleston. Pickens, in the meantime, with 
his regiments, traversed the border country, keeping in aw^e 
the Indians, and suppressing the predatory movements 
of the Tories. About the 1st November, the separate 
commands of Marion and Sumter crossed the rivers, and 
advanced in the direction of the enemy. The latter 
soon fell in with Cunningham's loyalists in force, and found 
it prudent to fall back. But he kept Cunningham in check 
with a body of men fully equal to his own. Marion, also, 
was compelled to come to a halt, by encountering General 
Stewart, posted at Wantoot, with nearly two thousand 
men. Stewart was at this time following up the peculiar 
labors which had been undertaken by Major Doyle when 
in temporary charge of the army. He w^as collecting 
slaves and laying in provisions, preparing for siege in, and 
subsequent flight from, Charleston. The fall of Corn- 
wallis, at Yorktown, was known in the American camp 
on the 9th of November. It had been anticipated in the 
British some time before. With the fate of that com- 
niander, virtually terminated the British hope of re-con- 
quering the country, and the proceedings of their officers in 
the south, as elsewhere, looked forward to the approacn- 
ing necessity of flight. It was only becoming that they 
should spoil the Egyptians previous to their departure. 



LIFE OF !M A R I N . 2S3 

The capture of IJornwallis produced a jubilee in the 
American camp. In that of Marion the ladies of Santee 
were permitted to partake. He gave them a fete-'-we are 
not told what were the refreshments — at the house of Mr. 
John Cantey. " The General," says James, " was not 
very susceptible of the gentler emotions ; he had his friends, 
and was kind to his inferiors, but his mind was principally 
absorbed by the love of country ;" and the Judge .rather 
msinuates that the pleasure he felt on this occasion arose 
moie from the fall of CornwaUis than from the presence 
of the ladies. 

Oil the same day, the 9th October, he received the 
thanks of Congress for " his wise, decided, and gallant 
conduct, in defending the liberties of his country, and par- 
ticularly for his prudent and intrepid attack on a body of 
British troops on the 31st August last ; and for the distin- 
guished part he took in the battle of the 8th September." 

On the ISth November, the camp of the Hills was 
oroken up, and General Greene advanced with his army 
to the Four Holes, on the Edisto, in full confidence that 
the foTce under Marion would be adequate to keep Gene- 
ral Stewart in check. But, by the 25th of the same month, 
our partisan was abandoned by all the mountaineers under 
Shelby and Sevier, a force of five hundred men. This was 
after a three weeks' service. This miserable defection 
was a.scribed to the withdrawal of Shelby from the army on 
leave, of absence. But, in all probability, it was due to 
their impatience of the wary sort of warfare which it was 
found necessary to pursue. The service was not suffi- 
ciently active for their habits. Marion had been warned 
that he must keep them actively employed, but all his 
efforts to do so had been unsuccessful. He had approached 
Stewart at Wantoot, but, though the force of the latter 
was nominally far superior to that of the p&rtisan, he^cduW 



284 LIFE OF MARiJN. 

nut be drawn out of his encampment. This was a subject 
of equal surprise and chagrin to Marion. Subsequently, 
the reason of this timidity on the part of the British gene- 
ral was discovered. A return, found on an orderly-ser- 
geant who fell into Marion's hands, showed that, out of 
two thousand two hundred and seventy-two men, Stewart 
had nine hundred and twenty-eight on the sick list. The 
only services in which the mountaineers were employed, 
while with Marion, were in attacks on the post at Fair- 
lawn, and the redoubts at Wappetaw ; and these required 
detachments only. The movement against the latter was 
instantly successful — the enemy abandoned it on the ap- 
proach of the Americans. But the post at Fairlawn was 
of more value, in better condition of defence, a convenient 
depot,, and, being in the rear of the British army, then sta- 
tioned at Wantoot, promised a stout resistance. The Ame- 
rican detachment against this place w^as led by Maham. 
In passing the post at Wantoot, he was ordered to show 
himself, and, if possible, to decoy the British cavalry into 
the field. The manoeuvre did not succeed, but it brought 
out a strong detachment, which followed close upon his 
heels, and required that what he should undertake should 
be done quickly. On approaching Fairlawn, he found 
everything prepared for defence. He lost no time in mak- 
ing his advances. A part of his riflemen were dismounted, 
and, acting as infantry, approached the abbatis, while his 
cavalry advanced boldly and demanded a surrender. The 
place, with all its sick, three hundred stand of arms, and 
eighty convalescents, was yielded at discretion. 

With these small affairs ended the service of the moun- 
taineers in Marion's army. They retired to their native 
hills, leaving Marion and Greene enmeshed in difficulties. 
It was on the strength of this force, chiefly, that the lat- 
ter had descended from the hijls, and he was now unable 



LIFE OF L ARION. 285 

to recede. Marion, too, relying upon their guppcrt, had 
crossed the Santee and placed himself in close proximity 
on the right of the enemy. But the feebleness and timid- 
ity of Stewart, and his ignorance of the state of affairs in 
Marion's camp, saved these generals from the necessity 
of a retreat which would have been equally full of daiger 
and humiliation. The movement of Greene across the 
Congaree induced him to draw towards Charleston, and 
Marion was left in safety. The timidity shown by the 
enemy encouraged Greene, and, dispatching a select party 
of horse under Wade Hampton, he followed hard upon 
their steps with as many chosen infantry. His purpose 
was the surprise of Dorchester. Stewart was descending 
io the city by another route. Hampton's advance fell in 
with a reconnoitring party of fifty men, and suilered few to 
escape ; and though Greene did not succeed in surprising 
tiie post at Dorchester, his approach had the efiect of 
j)roducing its abandonment. During the night, the garrison 
destroyed everything, threw ^heir cannon into the river, 
and retreated to Charleston. Greene did not venture to 
pursue, as the enemy's infaniiy exceeded five hundred' 
meo. Meanwhile, Stewart had hurried on by Goose-creek 
Bridge, and, joining the fugitives from Dorchester, halted 
at the Quarter House, and prepared to encounter the 
whole army of Greene, which, in their panic, was sup- 
posed to be upon their heels. Such was the alarm in 
Charleston that General Leslie, who now succeeded S;ew, 
art, proceeded to embody the slaves, in arms, for the 
defence of that place, — a measure which was soon repented 
of, and almost as soon abandoned. 

Greene fell back upon his main army, which had now 
advanced to Saunders' plantation on the Round 0., while 
Marion, pressing nearer to Charleston, kept the riglit of the 
enemy in check. The movements of our partisan were 
left to his own discretion. Greene, in all cases, no* cnly 



2S6 LIFE OF MARION. 

suffers the jiulgment of the former to determine for him-* 
self his course, giving him a thoroughly independent com- 
mand, but he betrays the most respectful desire on fre- 
quent occasions to have his opinion. Thus, on tlie 5th 
of November, he writes to him : — " Gen. Sumter has 
orders to take post at Orangeburgh, to prevent the Tories 
in that quarter from conveying supplies to town, and his 
advanced parties will penetrate as low as Dorchester ; 
therefore, you may act in conjunction with him, or employ 
your troops on the enemy's left, as you may find from in- 
formation they can be best employed. Please to give me" 
your opinion on which side they can be most useful." 
On the 15th of the same month, he writes again : " You 
are at liberty to act as yeu think advisedly. I have no par- 
ticular instructions to give you, and only wish you to avoid 
surprise." The latter caution to a soldier of Marion's 
character and prudence was scarcely necessary, but he 
was so near the enemy, and the latter in such superior 
force, that the suggestion, on the part of Greene, was only 
natural. Where Greene himself lay, two rivers ran be- 
tween his army and that of the British. Without ammu 
nition himself, and informed of reinforcements which the 
enemy had received, to preserve a respectful distance be- 
tween them, was, on the part of the American commander, 
only a becoming caution. It was now December, and the 
troops, both of Greene and Marion, were without the 
necessary clothing. They had neither cloaks nor blankets. 
On the 14th of that month, Greene received a supply of 
ammunition, all of which he sent to Marion — no small 
proof of the confidence which he felt that, in such hands, it 
would not be thrown away. 

Thus closed the campaign of 17SI. Bymanceuvre, and 
a successful combination of events, the British troops had 
been driven down the country and restrained within ^he 
narrow neck of land contJ<iuous to Charlc'ston Tlie en- 



LIFE OF MARION. 287 

campment of the main army continued at the Round O. 
Marion was at \Vatboo on Cooper river, watching the 
enemy's right ; Sumter held Orangeburg and the bridge at 
Four Holes ; Hampton with fifty Stale cavalry kept open 
the communication between Marion and the commander- 
in-chief; Cols. Harden and Wilkinson watched the enemy's 
movements on the south between Charleston and Savan- 
nah : and Col. Lee, posted in advance, with a light detach- 
ment, kept him from prying into the real weakness of the 
American army. In the ignorance of the British general, 
.lay the security of the American ; for, at this particular 
time, there were not eight hundred men at Greene's head" 
quarters. A glance at any map of South Carolina will 
show the judgment with which these several posts were 
taken, at once for easy co-operation of the Americans, as 
for the control of all the country above the positions actu- 
ally held by the British. The territory of the State, with 
the exception of that neck of land which lies twelve oi 
fifteen miles up from Charleston, between the approaching 
rivers Ashley and Cooper, had all been recovered from the 
enemy. But the necessities of the Americans, the want 
of military materiel, the thinness of the regiments, and the 
increasing strength of the British, derived from foreign 
troops and accessions from other posts in America, left it 
doubtful, under existing circumstances, whether it could be 
long retained. But this misgiving was not allowed to pre- 
judice or impair the popular hope, resulting from the ap- 
parent successes of their arms ; and one of the modes 
adopted for contributing to this conviction was the formal 
restoration of the native civil authority. The members of 
me State Assembly, of whom Marion was one, were 
accordingly required by the proclamation of Governor Rut- 
ledge — who had held almost dictatorial powers from the 
bcL^iniiing of the war — to convene at Jacksonborough at aa 
early day of the ensuing year. 



CHAPTER XVni. 

Marim summoned to the camp of Greene. — Defeats the Britisli 
horse at St. Thomas. — Leaves his command to Horry, and 
takes his seat in the Assembly at Jacksonborough, as Senator 
from" St. John's, Berkely. — Proceedings of the Assembly. — 
Confiscation Act. — Dispute between Cols. Maham and Horry 
— The brigade of Marion surprised, during his absence, by a 
detachment from Charleston. — Marion's encounter with the 
British horse. — Conspiracy in the camp of Greene 

While the army of Greene lay at Round O., considera- 
ble alarm was excited in the American camp by tidings of 
large reinforcements made to the British strength in 
Charleston. General Leslie was now in command of the 
latter. The, contraction of the American military cordon 
had very greatly straitened the resources and comforts of 
the British general. The numerous refugees who had 
taken shelter in the city with their families, the great accu- 
mulation of horses within the lines, and the vigilant watch 
which was maintained over the islands and the neck by the 
American light detachments, soon contributed to lessen 
the stock of provisions in the capital, and to cut off its 
supplies One consequence of this condition was to com- 
pel Leslie to put two hundred of his horses to death ; 
while, by ail other possible means, he collected his provi- 
sions from the surrounding country. Considerable parties 
were kept upon the alert for this object, and, to facilitate 
the movements of these parties, strong posts were estab- 



LIFE OF MARION. 289 

Jishea at HaddrePs Point and Ilobcaw. The situation of 
tliese posts, on the extremities of tongues of land, to which 
assistance might easily be conveyed by water, and from 
which retreat, to an attacking enemy, was difficult, ren- 
dered them comjiaratively safe, for the present, against 
the Americans. But the situation of Leslie was one ol 
uncomfortable constraint, and it was natural that he should 
avail himself of any prospect which might promise him 
relief It was readily believed, therefore, in the American 
camp, that, with the acquisition of new strength, by the 
arrival of reinforcements from abroad, Leslie would seek 
to break through the cordon put around him. The rumor 
of his approach, in strength, caused Greene to issue his 
orders to jNIarion to repair to head-quarters with all the 
force he could draw after him. Our partisan promptly 
obeyed the summons ; but, on his way to join with 
Greene, he left a detachment of mounted infantry in the 
neighborhood of Monk's Corner, to watch the motions of 
the enemy. 

But Leslie's purpose was mistaken. His strength had 
been exaggerated. He had no designs upon the camp of 
Greene, being no doubt quite as ignorant of his weakness 
as the latter was of the British strength. But the detach- 
ment left by Marion near Monk's Corner caught the atten- 
tion of the enemy, and, in the absence of the partisan, it 
was thought accessible to a proper attempt from Charles- 
ton. In all the movements of the British, it is very evi- 
dent that they attached no small importance to the presence 
of this chief. A detachment of three hundred men, cavalry 
and infantry, was transported by water to the north bank 
of th(! Wando river. This body moved with equal secr(^sy 
and celerity. But they were disappointed in their aim 
Marion had returned from the Continental camj) to hia 
own. The storm which threatened the former was over 
10 



290 ' LIFEOFMARION. 

blown, and he was in season to avert that ty which the 
latter was threatened. His force was scarcel}'- equal to 
that of the enemy. He nevertheless re£ olved upon attack- 
ing them. In order to keep them in pla}^, while he ad- 
vanced with his main body, Cols. Richardson and Scriven, 
with a part of Maham's horse, v/ere dispatched with 
orders to throw themselves in front of the British, and 
engage them until he could come up. This order was 
gallantly executed. They encountered the enemy's ad- 
vance near the muster-house of St. Thomas, charged them 
vigorously, and succeeded in putting them to flight, with 
some slaughter. Capt. Campbell, of the British, and 
several others, were killed. But the pursuit was urged 
too far. The cavalry of Maham, by which this success 
had been obtained, was of new organization. Their train- 
ing had been partial only. It was seen that, though they 
drove the British horse before them, their own charge was 
marked by disorder. Hurried forward by success, they 
rushed into the jaws of danger, and were only brought to 
their senses by an encounter with the whole of the British 
-nfantry. A volley from this body drove them back in 
confusion, while the cavalry, which had been flying be- 
fore them, encouraged by the presence of the infantry, 
rallied upon the steps of the pursuers, and drove them in 
turn. They suffered severely, wedged upon a narrow 
causeway, which gave them as little room for escape as 
evolution. Twenty-two fell upon the spot, by the flre of 
the infan'ry. The rest were rallied when sufficiently far 
from tiie more formidable enemy, and, turning upon the 
British cavalry, once more put them to flight. But the 
event left Marion too weak to press the encounter. He 
contented himself with watching the motions cf the 
British, and they were sufficiently respectful not to press 
him to any less pacific performance. They were satis- 



LIFEOF MARION. 2Q\ 

fiiiJ to pursue theii march, and, gathering a e\T head 
of cattle, to retire to Haddrell's, foregoing the more im- 
portant object of their incursion. The field clear, Marion 
left his brigade in charge of Horr}'", an 1 repaired to J ack- 
sonborough, to attend the Assembly, to which he had 
been elected a member from St. John, Berkely, the same 
parish which he represented in the Provincial Congress at 
the beginning of the war. This was early in the year 
17S2. The Legislature met at Jacksonborough, a little 
village on the Edisto or Pon-Pon river, on the ISth Janu- 
ary of this year. This position, almost within striking 
distance of the British army at Charleston, wa8 chosen 
with particular reference to the moral influence which the 
boldness of such a choice would be likely to L^ve upon 
the people, and the confidence which it seemed tO declare^ 
in the ability of the American army to render the place 
secure. To make it so, Greene moved his troops across 
trie Edisto, and took post at Skirving's plantation, six 
miles in advance of Jacksonborough, and on the road which 
leads to Charleston. There was yet another step neces- 
sary to this object. The British, in addition to Charleston 
and the " Neck," held possession of two islands, James 
and John, which belong to that inner chain of isles which 
stretches along the coast from Charleston to Savannah, 
separated from the main by creeks and marshea, and 
from one another by the estuaries of rivers, sounds, or 
inlets. On John's Island, which is fertile, extensive, and 
secure, the enemy held a very respectable force under 
Col. Craig. Jacksonborough was within striking distance 
of this force. It could be approached by boats or galleys, 
in a single tide. It was equally assailable from this point 
by land. As a matter of precaution, it was considered 
necessary to disperse this force, and it was soon ascer- 
MJjoed, not on'.y that the island was accessible, but that th« 



292 LIFE OF M A U I O N . 

enemy, relying upon the protection of his armed galleyg 
was unapprehensive of attacit. The attempt was entrusted 
*to Cols Lee and Laurens, who, with separate parties, 
were to reach the point of destination by different routes. 
One of the parties lost the road, and failed to co-operats 
vith the other. The movement was only partially sue- 
-essful. A second was designed, and succeedea. The 
galleys were driven from their station by the artillery, and 
Laurens penetrated to Craig's encampment. But the 
latter had already abandoned it. A few stragglers fell 
into the hands of the Americans, but nothing more. The 
preceding attempt had just sufficed to convince Craig of 
the insecurity of the place, and he had taken timely pre- 
cautions against suffering from a repetition of the attempt. 

The Legislature assembled according to appointment. 
The proclamation of the Governor, to whom, from the 
beginning of the war, had been accorded almost dictatorial 
powers, precluded from election and suffrage all persons 
■who had taken British protections ; and, as those who 
were true to the State had been very generally active 
in the ranks of her military, it followed, as a matter of 
course, that a great proportion of the members were mill 
tary men. Among these were Sumter and Marion. The 
former, about this time, yielded his commission to the 
authorities, on account of some slight or injustice to which 
he had been subjected, and left the army when he took 
his seat in the Assembly. General Henderson succeeded 
to his com.mand. The Jacksonborough Assembly was 
highly distinguished, as well for its talent as for its 
worth and patriotism. Its character was, perhaps, rather 
military than civil Constituting as they did, in a slave 
conmiunity, a sort of feudal aristocracy, and accustomed, 
?s, for so long a time they had been, to the use of the wea- 
pons of war, its inembers wore ttue deportment of so many 



LIFE OF MARION. 293 

armed barons, gathered together quite as ^>'.ch lOr action 
as resolve. It was not only unavoidable, but highly im- 
portant at this juncture, that such should be the character 
of this body. Who could so well determine what were 
the necessities of the country — what the exigencies of the 
people — what the local resources and remedies — as those 
who had fought its battles, traversed every acre of its soil, 
and represented its interests and maintained its rights when 
there was no civil authority ? What legislators so likely 
to wield the popular will, as men who, like Marion and 
Sumter, had become its rallying leaders — whom the peo- 
ple had been accustomed to obey and follow, and by whom 
they had been protected. It was equally important that- 
the legislation should come from such sources, when we 
consider the effect upon the enemy, still having a foothold 
in the State. They might reasonably apprehend that the 
laws springing from such a body would be marked by a 
stern directness and decision of purpose which would leave 
nothing to be hoped by disaffection or hostility; and their 
proceedings did not disappoint the expectations of friend 
3r foe. 

The measures of this Assembly were marked by equal 
prudence and resolve. They passed a new act respecting the 
militia, and one for raising the State quota of Continental 
troops. One of their measures has been questioned as un- 
wise and impolitic — that, namely, for amercing and confis- 
cating the estates of certain of the loyalists, and for banish- 
ing the most obnoxious among them. Something, cer- 
tainly, is to be said in favor of this act. If vindictive, it 
peems to have been necessary. It must be remembered 
that, in consequew "e of a previous proclamation of the 
Governor, none but the most implacable and virulent of 
the Tories were liable to its operation — none but those who 
had rejected very liberal offers of indulgence and concilia* 



294 LIFE OF MARION. 

tiori. This proclamation had opened the door to recon- 
ciUation with the State, on very easy terms to the offend- 
ers. It gave them timely warning to come in, enrol them- 
selves in the American ranks, and thus assure themselves 
of that protection and safety which they had well forfeited. 
Their neglect or refusal to accept this proffer of mercy, 
properly incurred the penalties of contumacy. These 
penalties could be no other than confiscation of property 
and banishment of person. Reasons of policy, if not of 
absolute necessity, seemed to enforce these penalties 
How was the war to be carried on ? Marion's men, for 
example, received no ^ay, no food, no clothing. They 
had borne the dangers and the toils of war, not only with- 
out pay, but without the hope of it. They had done 
more— -they had yielded up their private fortunes to. the 
cause. They had seen their plantations stripped by the 
enemy, of negroes, horses, cattle, provisions, plate — every- 
thing, in short, which could tempt the appetite of cupidity ; 
and this, too, with the knowledge, not only that numerous 
loyalists had been secured in their owp possessions, but 
had been rewarded out of theirs. The proposed measure 
seemed but a natural and necessary compliance with popu- 
lar requisition. Besides, the war was yet to be carried on. 
How was this to be done ? How long was it yet to last ? 
What was to be its limit ? Who could predict ? Con- 
gress was without money — the State without means. For 
a space of three years. South Carolina had not only sup- 
ported the war within, but beyond her own borders. 
Georgia was utterly, destitute, and was indebted to South 
Carolina for eighteen months for her subsistence ; and North . 
Caj^olina, in the portions contiguous to South Carolina, 
was equally poor and disaffected. The Whigs were 
utterly impoverished by their own wants and the ravages 
of the enemy. They had nothing more to give. Patriot- 



LIFE OF MARION. 295 

ism could now bestow little but its blood. It was with 
an obvious propriety resolved, by the Jacksonborough 
Assembly, that those who had proved false to the country 
should be made to suffer in like degree with those who 
liad been true, and who were still sufiering in her defence. 
As a measure of prolonged policy — contemplated beyond 
the emergency — there may be objections to the Confisca- 
tion Act ; but the necessities of the time seemed to de- 
mand it, and it will be difficult for any j idgment, havjng 
before it all the particulars of the cruel civ il war through 
which the country had gone — not to speak of the army, 
and the present and pressing necessity for maintaining it — 
to arrive at any other conclusion, or to censure the brave 
men who urged and advocated the measure. The pro- 
ceeding seems perfe,ctly defensible on general principles, 
though in particular instances — as in the application of all 
general principles — it may have been productive of injury. 
The estates of the loyalists, by this measure, were seized 
upon as a means for building up the credit of the State, 
suppl^^ing it with the necessary funds for maintaining order 
as well as war, and for requiting and supporting that army 
which was still required to bleed in its defence. 

What part was taken in this act by Marion, is not 
known. Though kind and indulgent in his nature, he was 
stern and resolute in war. We have no reason to suppose 
that he entertained any scruples about a proceeding, the 
necessity of vhich, at the time, seems to have been beyond 
all dispute. ^ J< ' 

The absence of our partisan from his brigade, was 
almost fatal to it. . ' He left it with, reluctance, and only 
with the conviction that his presence in the Senate was 
important to the interests equally of the army and the 
country. Indeed, without him there would not have been 
d quorum. There were only thirteen Senators present 



296 LIFE OF JIARION. 

He was interested, besides, in the passage of the new Mili 
tia Act, and in one designed to raise the State quota o! 
Continental troops. Ihese were sufficient to compel his 
presence. But he remained with reluctance. His letters 
from Jacksonborough betray the most constant anxiety 
about his brigade. He had yielded it to Horry with the 
most earnest exhortations to caution. By his orders, the lat-^ 
ter, the more completely to ensure its safety, removed to a 
position on the north side of Wambaw, a creek emptying 
into the Santee. Here, in an angle formed by the two 
roads which pass from Lenud's Ferry road to Horry's 
plantation, about a quarter of a mile from the bridge, 
Horry occupied a post which caution might have rendered 
safe. In his rear was a wood. His newly raised regi- 
ment, not half complete, lay at Durant's plantation, about 
a mile above, under the command of Major Benson. Horry 
does not seem to have been remiss in his duties, but about 
this time he fell sick, and, for some time before, he had 
been, and still was, somewhat wilful. There was an un- 
happy dispute between himself and Col. Maham, touch- 
ing rank and precedence. The latter refused to be com- 
manded by the former, claiming to be equal in commission, 
and, when Marion went to Jacksonborough, separated his 
corps from the brigade, posted them higher up the river, 
and, being a member of the Legislature, proceeded to 
Jacksonborough also. Greene v»^as not unwilling, in the 
present juncture of affairs, that the native officers should 
be present at the deliberations of this body. The civil 
objects were just then even more important than the mili- 
tary. 

The contumacy of Maham was a subject of the most 
earnest discussion. Both Marion and Greene decided 
against him ; yet both were reluctant to offend him, as they 
knew his value as a cavalry officer. Maham seems to have 



LIFE OF M xV li I O N 2^7 

acted under some erroneous impressions of the independv. nco 
of a leo^ionarv brigade, as he claimed his to be. He also com 
plained of the free use which Marion made of his cavalry, 
and the severe duties he was required to perform. To 
this, Greene replies : " You are to consider how extensive 
the country he has to guard, and how much he depends 
upon your corps. This will account for the hard service 
you have been put to. The general is a good man, and 
when you consider his ditficulties, and make just allow- 
ances, perhaps you will have little to complain of but the 
hard necessity of the service." 

But this reply did not produce its effect, and Mahani 
certainly erred, as a soldier, in complaining of the severity 
of his task?. In the old chivalrous periods, the peculiar 
severity of the duties assigned to knighthood was recog- 
nized gratefully, as matter of compliment and trust. He 
still held off; and Marion promptly demanded, that, if Ma 
ham had any independent right of command, while nomi- 
nally under him, he might be at once withdrav/n from the 
brioiide. Maham's manner and tone were quite respect- 
ful, but tenacious ; and while the discussion was in pro- 
gress, and he holding off from Horry, events were brewing 
which were destined to terminate the unfortunate dispute 
by a capital misfortune. 

Again taking advantage of the absence of Marion, an 
expedition was set on foot in Charleston, against Horry. 
A detachment of two hundred horse, five hundred infantry, 
and two pieces of artillery, under Col. Thomson (better 
known in after-times as Count Rumford), prepared to as- 
cend Cooper river. Its preparations were not conducted 
with such caution, however, but that they became known 
to the vigilant friends of the Americans in and about the 
city. The army was warned of their preparations. Greene 
hinted to Marion the necessity of returning to his rommanc 



29S L I !'• E OF M A R I K 

The latter replies, by declaring his great anxiety to do so, 
out urges the impossibihty of leaving the Senate, lest the 
Assembly should be broken up — an event v^^hich might be 
of fatal importance to the cause, unless the great business 
of the session were first disposed of. He promises to 
move as soon as this should be the case. The actual 
movement of the British detachment made it impo>sible 
that Marion should longer delay to rejoin his brigade, and, 
accompanied by Col. Maham, he reached the ground on 
which the regiment of the latter was encamped, by a ch- 
cuitous route and rapid riding, on the 24th February 
Here they were unhappily told that the enemy v/as re- 
tiring. Marion, accordingly, remained to rest and refresh 
himself, while Maham paid a visit to his own plantation. 
In a few hours after Maham's departure, an express 
arrived with the mortifying intelligence that the brigade 
had been surprised and dispersed. Marion, instantly put- 
ting hiniself at the head of Maham's regiment, hurried on 
toward Wambaw, the scene of the event, to check pursuit 
and collect and save the fugitives. 

We have seen the position of Horry. He had sent out 
his scouts on all the roads by which the approach of an 
enemy might be apprehended. Feeling himself secure, 
and being sick, he went over the river on the 24th, the day 
of the catastrophe, to his plantation, leaving the brigade 
under the command of Col. M' Donald. Major Benson, 
as will be remembered, held a position, with the incom- 
plete regiment of Horry, at Durant's plantation, about a 
mile ahove that of the brigade. By some unaccountable 
remissness of patrols or videttes, the British cavalry, under 
Coffin, surprised the latter post. Benson, it is said, had 
been told by Capt. Bennett, who commanded the scouts in 
St. Thomas's, thai the enemy w^as approaching ; but the 
information was brought to him while at dinner, and a 



J. I F E OF M A R I :7 . QdVf 

kt^fc rtjij'>L*tn'e miide him slow to believe tidings which 
niiglil have lessened the enjoyment of the meal. Bennett 
proccedec^ to Hcny's head-quarters, where Col. M'Donald 
happened to bs at dinner also. He proved equally incre- 
dulous, but desired Major James, who had just arrived in 
camp, to take commarid of his regiment. The surprise of 
Ben.>on was complete, and he paid for his remissness or in- 
diiference with his life. The firing at Durant's convinced 
M-Donald of his error ; but, in all probability, the sur- 
prise was quite as complete in. the one command as in the 
other. There were two regiments of " six-months' men" 
—that is 10 say, " reformed Tories" — persons who had 
come in under the proclamation issued by Governor Rut- 
ledge. These broke at the first encounter with the enemy. 
In their flight, and to prevent pursuit, they threw oft' the 
planks from Wambaw bridge. Fortunately, a strong body, 
under Major James, checked the pursuit for a space, and gave 
an opportunity for the fugitives to save themselves. Many 
of them crossed the river by swimming, but some were 
drowned in the attempt. The thickets saved the infantry. 
No prisoners were taken. The British gave no quarter. 
Successful against Benson and M'Donald, the enemy 
pressed forward in the direction of Marion's approach, but 
without having any knowledge of his proximity. He had 
halted with the cavalry of Maham, at the house of Mr?. 
Tidyman, about four miles from the scene of the disaster, 
to refresh his men and horses. The latter were unbitted 
and feeding, when the whole of the enemy's cavalry made 
their appearance. It would seem, from the indecision of 
their commander, that he was no less surprised at falling 
in with this body of Marion's men, than wcs our partisan 
txi his sudden appearance. His hesitation under this sur 
prise gave the Americans an opportunity to recover them- 
iielves. It was the opinion of Maliaiu^ that, had the 



200 LIFE OF xM A R I N . 

cfiarge been sounded the momeRt that he ^lame in view^ 
the whole regiment must have been lost. There was no 
retreat, save by the river, and by the lane through which 
hey had entered the plantation, and of this the enemy had 
lull command. The halt and hesitation of the British - 
their seeming alarm — a; once afforded Marion the means 
of extrication from his predicament. To bit and mount 
their horses, was, for his cavalry, the work of a moment 
Though not counting half the numbers of the enemy, Ma 
rion's instant resolution v/as to issue forth by the lane, and 
attack them. They had displayed themselves i.: front of 
it. Just before the lane was an old field, and a.litu^ to 
the right a pond of water. Marion, placing a small body 
of infantry to great advantage along the fence, ordered his 
column of cavahy to advance through the lane to the 
attack. His men were well mounted ; in this respect, if 
inferior in numbers, they had a manifest advantage over 
the British. The latter had been too long cooped up in 
the walls of Charleston, on short commons, to be very ser- 
viceable ; and the cavalry of Maham, though somew^hat 
too much crowded with the " new-made Whigs," were 
yet confident, from long experience, in their ability 
to contend with the enemy. Marion himself was confi- 
dent, but was destinedjin this instance, to lose, what he him- 
self, in his dispatches, has styled, " a glorious opportunity 
of cutting up the British cavalry." His men moved to 
the extremity of the lane, before which the enemy had 
halted, with a firm and promising countenance. The front 
section was led by Capt. Smith, an officer of approved 
courage, who, in a very recent affair at St Thomas' 
muster-house, had signally distinguished himself. Yet, 
seized with a sudden panic, the moment that he reached 
the end of the lane, he dashed into the woods on the right, 
aud diiw after him the whole regiment. Mariou himself, 



LIFE OF MARION. 301 

who was near the head of the column, was oorne awu\^ by 
the torrent, which he in vain struggled to withstand. The 
rush was irresistible — the confusion irretrievable. AH 
elibrts to restrain or recover the fugitives were idle, until 
they had reached the woods. There Marion succeeded in 
rallying a party, and at this point the pursuit of the enemy 
was checked, and the fugitives partly rallied. They had 
sustained but little loss in lives ; but the shame, the dis- 
grace of such a panic, were immeasurably humiliating 
The British showed no eagerness in the pursuit. They 
seemed to doubt the bloodless victory which they had won, 
and, content with their own escape, were not unreasonably 
urgent with fortune to make their victory complete. They 
subsequently, after they had fully recovered froni their 
panic, contrived greatly to exaggerate the importance of 
the event. One of the new^spapers of the day has, the fol- 
lowing : — " Things bear a better prospect than they did. 
Colonel Thomson has defeated General Marion in South 
CaroHna, killed one hundred men, and Marion was 
drowned, attempting to escape." The only officer drowned 
in the flight, was Lieut. Smyzer of Horry's cavalry. 

The loss of the brigade in horses and accoutrements was 
greater than in men. Their greater loss, however, was of 
that confidence in themselves and one another, which it 
was one of the greatest objects of Marion's training to in- 
spire. The true secret of the superiority of regulars over 
militia-men lies in the habit of mutual reliance. They feel 
each other's elbows, in military parlance — they are assured 
by the custom of mutually depending one upon the other 
This habit impresses them with a conviction, w hich tht 
terrors of conflict do not often impair, that they will not bt 
deserted ; and, thus assured, they hurry into the battle, and 
remain in it so long as the body with which they move 
car act to<;ether Once broken, however, the cry is 



602 h F E F M A R I N . • 

'^ sauve (jul pent.'' Not so with militia-men. Tii^y neve; 
forget their iiidividuahty. . The very feeling of personal 
independence is apt to impair their confidence in one an- 
other. Their habit is to obey the individual impulse 
The}^ do not wait to take their temper from their neighbor 
right and left. Hence their irregularity — the diificulty of 
restraining them — of making them act in routine, and with 
entire reference to the action of other bodies. So far from 
deriving strength from feeling another's elbow, they much 
prefer elbow room. Could they be assured of one another, 
they were the greatest troops in the world. They are 
the greatest troops in the world — capable of the most daring 
and heroic achievements — w^herever the skill of the com- 
mander can inspire this feeling of mutual reliance. Fre^ 
quent co-operation of the same persons under the same 
leader produces it, and makes them veterans. The old 
soldiers of the brigade had it in perfection. It was one of 
the excellences of Marion that it followed so certainly and 
'rapidly from his peculiar training. That it should be lost 
or impaired, was a most serious evil. That it would not 
have been endangered, we are sure, had it not been that the 
brigade no longer consisted of the brave fellows who had 
clung to him through the campaigns of the last two years. 
The new recruits were, in all probability, to blame for the 
mischance ; and something, perhaps, is due to the unhappy 
quarrel between Maham and Horry. The former was 
terribly mortified by the affair — mortified that Marion should 
have hurried to the scene of action without apprising him, 
and vexed that his own regiment should have behaved so 
badly. He complains that others should '^ expend the 
strength of the regiment without giving /tiwithe satisfaction 
of being present." Captain John Caraway Smith, the 
officer who led the column thus disastrously aside, resigned 
the day after the affair. His conduct had been habitually' 



LIFE OF MARION ^Q'A 

Drave. But a short time before, as already shown, he had 
behaved with the most determined and audacious gallantry 
at the head of the same troop. That their training was 
defective is beyond question, but no imputation rested upon 
their courage or his own. Nevertheless, we have Na- 
poleon's authority for the opinion that every man has his 
fnoment de peur. No man is equally firm on all occasions. 
There are moods of weakness and irresolution in every 
mind, which is not exactly a machine, Avhich impair its 
energies, and make its course erratic and uncertain. 
The truth was known in earlier ages. The old poets 
ascribed it to supernatural influence. Envious deities in- 
terposed between valor and its victim, paralysing the soul 
of the one and strengthening that of the other. Thus we 
."ind even Hector, upon occasion, the slave of panic, and 
?aris, on the other hand, almost emulating the spirit of his 
i rotlier. 

The conduct of Captain Smith, in this affair, has been 
excused by Maham. He ascribes it to an error of Marion 
Iiimself. He says that, " Marion (who was" an infantry 
ofHcer) gave the order to file off from the house to the right, 
instead of ordering to charge ! This induced his officers to 
believe that they were to retreat and not to fight." This 
may be true ; but it is scarcely probable. Retreat from 
the house, except into the river, seems to have been cut off. 
The only other avenue was the lane. At the end of this 
was the enemy, drawn out in order of Wtle. Upon these 
tne advance was ordered We have seen that Marion 
himself exulted in the conviction that the enemy was in 
his power. His exultation could not have been entirely 
concealed from his officers. It must have declared itself in 
some way. The halt and hesitation of the Britisli were 
l^erce]>tible to all. They were in superior numbers, and 
when they i :'ached .he head of '.he lane, li-c horses of Urn 



304 L I F E O r M A R I N 

American cavalry were unbitted and feeding. A sucaen 
and resolute charge, according to Maham, on the part of 
the British, would have resulted in the entire defeat of the 
regiment. That they did not order this charge betra^'ed 
their apprehensions, and should have encouraged, in simi- 
lar degree, the Americans — </itZ encourage them, and hence 
the resolve of Marion to advance upon them That it 
should be supposed he would hurry forward, in the very 
teeth of the enemy, only to dash aside in confusion from the 
struggle, is scarcely reasonable. But Maham was offend- 
ed with Marion. The latter had decided against him in 
the controversy with Horry ; and the subsequent movement 
against the British, without stopping to require his presence, 
was another mortifying circumstance which he was not 
likely to forget. Biassed by his feelings, he was not will- 
ing to believe that the seeming slight was in reality due to 
the emergency of the case, which would not allow a mo- 
ment's hesitation in Marion's moverhent at such a juncture. 
As soon as the presence of Marion was known, the fugi- 
tives gathered around him. But for his absence they had 
never been dispersed. Horry's regiment was very much 
crippled ; Maham 's in equally bad condition. Of M'Don- 
ald's, and the brigade, a few hundred were soon brought 
together ; and with his deranged and dispirited band, our 
partisan retired beyond the Santee to repair and recruit his 
strength, and revive the confidence of his men in their 
leaders and themselves. In the meanwhile, the country 
which he had so recently covered and protected was 
harried by the Br tish. They improved the interval of 
his absence by suci essful incursions. The cattle had been 
already put beyond their power, on the other side the 
Santee ; but they stripped the plantations within their reach, 
as well of slaves as of provisions. Greene could do noth- 
ing to prevent them. His own army v/as in a stale of 



LIFE OF MARION. 305 

coavulsioi: and commotion ; suffering fi\im distress and dis 
content, and threatened witli dissolution. Recent occur 
rences had awakened his fears for his own security. 

One result of Marion's recent disaster was to put an en^ 
to the dispute between Horry and Maham. Their respect- 
ive regiments were so reduced, after the affair at Wambaw, 
that it was deemed advisable to amalgamate them. Hav- 
ing resolved upon this measure, Gov. Mathews, who had 
succeeded Rutledge, applied to Marion to know who of the 
two was the best cavalry officer — an opinion which Marion 
yielded with great reluctance. His personal preferences 
went with Horry, but he could not hesitate in declaring for 
Maham. Horry, with the ambition of a spirited soldier, 
«"agerly desired a command of cavalry, — was a good infan- 
try officer, and had all the requirements of skill and bravery 
But he was no horseman, and it is said that, in several of 
his charges, he was indebted to some one or other of his 
men for his own safety, being commonly unhorsed. His 
gallantry and patriotism were equally unquestionable. 
They had been displayed from the beginning of the war. 
The preference shown Maham caused Horry's resignation 
from the service ; but to console him for the mortification, 
Marion made him commandant of Georgetown, a post 
which linited the responsibilities and duties of a military 
and civil service. 

With the adjournment of the Assembly at Jackson- 
borough, the army of Greene moved down from Skirving's 
plantation to Bacon's bridge, at the head of Ashley river. 
Here, within twenty miles of the enemy, a dangerous con- 
spiracy ripened almost to maturity among the Pennsyl- 
vania troops, composed in part of the very mutineers who 
had triumphed over government in the insurrection in 
Jersey, and who, as Lafayette observed,* " had been well 

• Johnson's Life of Greene, Vol. ii., '>. 319 
20 



306 L.FEOF MARION. 

paid and well clothed in conbequence of it." This, w@ 
believe, was the only body of troops furnished to the 
Southern army, during the Revolution, from any of the 
States north of Maryland and Delaware. We make this 
remark with the view to the correction of a veiy general 
error, arising from the vague manner m which it is customary 
for our historians to speak of the sources of the personnel of 
the Southern army. The armies led by Gates and Greene, 
to the defence of Carolina, were truly from States north ol 
her, but they were not Northern States. Two fine bodies of 
troops came from Maryland and Delaware, but the rest were 
from Virginia and North Carolina, — with the exception of 
the Pennsylvania line, of which we have now to speak. 
These, as we have seen, had been refractory in Jersey, 
and instead of being punished, were paid for their sedition. 
It was natural that they should endeavor to renew an ex- 
periment which had already proved so profitable. The 
mutineers were directed by one Sergeant Gornell. Their 
number is unknown. They were solely of tho Pennsyl- 
vania line, and mighi have been successful but for an at- 
tempt which they made upon the fidelity of the Mary- 
landers. Their purpose was to deliver Greene to the 
enemy, and otherwise facilitate the objects of the latter, 
who were to make a concerted movement, in force, upon 
the American army, at a prescribed moment. The inte- 
grity of the Marylanders, whom Gornell approached, was 
not to be shaken ; and to their fidelity and the quick ears 
of one of the camp-women, the army was indebted for its 
safety. The circumstances were all in favor of the success 
of the conspirators. There was a general discontent in the 
army. The troops were badly fed and clothed — were 
unpaid, doubtful of pay, and suffering present distresses. 
They were inactive. Many of them were new recruits 
•firoene was no longer surrounded by the tried and true 
suf^ii and officers, who had borne the brunt of the contest 



L 1 1-' E OF M A R ! N 307 

The term of service of the former had in great part expired ; 
some of his best officers were on furlough, and he had 
ofi'ended others. Sumter had left the army in disgust ,* 
Pickens was operating against the Indians ; Marion was 
recruiting his brigade on the Santee ; Williams had gone 
home ; Howard was in Maryland, scarcely recovered from 
his wounds ; Wayne was in Georgia, doing good service 
in that quarter ; St. Clair was absent on leave ; Lee had 
gone to Virginia to get married, and his legion was almost 
shorn of officers ; Eggleston had gone with him to Virginia, 
and the brave fellows, Armstrong and Carrington, had fallen 
into the hands of the enemy. The time was well chosen 
for mutiny, and as the hour drew near for the consumma- 
tion of the purpose of the conspirators, the British army 
was set in motion from below, — not so secretly, however, 
but that their movements were made known to the Ameri- 
cans. Symptoms of mutiny became apparent in the camp, 
and it was necessary to proceed with vigor. Doubtful of 
a large number of those around him, Greene summoned 
Marion with all his force from the Santee, while his own 
army was kept in order of battle. The arrest of Gornell, 
with that of four others, all sergeants of the Pennsylyania 
line, took place the night before the conspiracy was to take 
effect. Gornell was tried and executed ; the others were 
sent under guard into the interior. This proceeding was 
the signal for the flight of at least a dozen more, who, 
having been committed, broke away on the night of Gor- 
nelPs seizure, and found protection with the enemy, who 
advanced in force to receive them. This prompt proceed- 
ing suppressed the mutiny. The development of the con- 
spiracy, the state of preparedness in the camp of Greene, and 
the movement of Marion, had the effect of discouraging the 
farther advance of the British army ; and Marion, while 
yet in n otion for the camp of Greene, from which he way 



308 LIFE OF MARION* 

but eight miles distant, was summoned in haste to the protec 
tion of Georgetown, against which the enemy was reported 
to have sailed from Charleston. A forced march of four 
days brought him to White's Bridge, when it was discover- 
ed that the alarm was unfounded. The enemy had not 
shown himself, and was not nigh. In this march of one 
hundred and sixty miles, Marion's men had but a single 
lation of rice. Their sole food, with this exception, was 
lean beef. The march took place in April, when there is 
no forage for cattle, and when such as survive the winter, 
are compelled to wander far in the swamps and thickets in 
search of the scanty herbage which sustains them. The 
march of our partisan in these two expeditions was con- 
ducted solely on foot. The country south of the Santee 
had been so completely foraged by the British, during his 
vacation of it, that he was compelled to dismount his in- 
fantry in his movements until the spring herbage should 
enable him to feed his horses. His force was reduced to 
two hundred militia and one hundred and twenty horse. 
It was the wish of General Greene that he should take 
post as near the enemy as possible, in order both to shorten 
his limits beyond Cooper river, and to enable Col. Laurens, 
who now commanded the legion of Lee, to pass the Ashley, 
and close upon the British between the latter river and 
Goose Creek. But with his infantry dismounted, he dared 
not venture so completely v/ithin the reach of an enemy so 
superior ; and with the double purpose of securing a re- 
treat, if necessary, and of forming a junction with any party 
when desirable, either at Huger's Bridge, over the west 
branch of Cooper river, or at Strawberry Ferry, he took 
post at Sinkler's plantation on the Santee. This left him 
within twenty-five miles of each of these designated routes 
His cavalry meanwhile patrolled the country • as low as 
Haddrell and Hobeaw, and in sight of the British posts at 



Z.I1E OF MARION 309 

those places. They thus procured the earliest ne\vs of 
the enemy's movements, and checked his incursions in that 
quarter. The effect of Marion's presence with his bri- 
gade was soon felt, as well by his people as by the British. 
i3y the latter it was deemed important to relieve themselves 
from a neighbor at once so vigilant and inconvenient. A mes- 
t;enger, feigning to be a deserter, was dispatched by General 
Leslie, whose plan was to make his way through the scouts 
of IMarion, to the Scotch and loyal settlements on the 
borders of North Carolina. These were to be stirred up 
to insurrection, and Marion was to be diverted from a quar- 
ter in wdiich his presence was particularly annoying. The 
messenger succeeded in his object, but was less fortunate 
in his return. He had done the mischief required at his 
hands, fomented the insurrection, and set the loyalists in 
motion. The proofs were conclusiv^e against him, and 
he perished by military execution. The timely notice 
which Marion obtained of his labors enabled him to pre- 
pare against the ev©ut. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Marion summoned with his force to that of Greene. — Insurreo 
tion of the Loyalists on the Pedee. — Marches against them — 
Subdues them, — Treats with Gainey. — Fanning.— Protects the 
Tory, Butler, from his men. — Returns to the country between 
the Santee and the Cooper. — Moves to protect Georgetown 
from the British fleet. — Takes post at Watboo, on Cooper 
river. — Defeats the British cavalry tinder Major Frasier. 

Meanwhile, the main body of the army under Greene con - 
tinued to suffer diminution. On the first of May a large 
proportion of the North Carolina troops were entitled to 
and claimed their discharge. No recruits were expected 
from the North, and it became necessary to draw together 
all the force that South Carolina could afford. The Gov- 
ernment of this State, from its first re-organization, had 
faithfully endeavored to re-establish the South Carolina 
line, but, being without money or means, with very little 
success. A few recruits were obtained from among 
those w^ho had recently received their discharge, but 
the service had been of a kind to baffle all the tempta- 
tions and arguments of the recruiting officers. In the emer- 
gency of the case, it became indispensable to look to the 
militia under Marion, Pickens and Henderson ; and these 
leaders were accordingly required to repair to head- 
quarters. 

'*The witlidrawal of the former, with his troops, from the 
region of country which they had so lately covered, was 
the signal for that rising of the loyalists upon the Pedee, to 
instigate which the unfortunate emissary of G-eneral Leslie 



LIFE 01- M A RI N' 31 1 

had been tlispatchod from Charleston. The absence of 
Marion was considered auspicious to the new movement. 
He had scarcely reached Dorchester when his ancient 
enemy, Major Gaine}^, appeared inarms at the head of a 
considerable body of troops, both cavalry and infantry. A 
small command under Col. Baxter, which had been left by 
Marion to observe their movements, was too feeble to make 
head against them, and it became necessary for Marion 
himself to retrace his steps, and arrest the progress of the 
insurrection. Placing himself at the head of Maham's 
cavalry, he promptly advanced in the direction of the 
enemy. So rapid were his movements, so vigilant his 
watch, so well devised his plans, that he reached the 
Pedee country long before his approach was suspected. 
His presence, on the present occasion, was a surprise. It 
had long been a terror ; so much so that but for his re- 
moteness at the camp of Greene, they had, in all probabili- 
ty, never ventured to resume their arms. Three separate 
bodies of men, by a judicious arrangement of our partisan, 
were prepared to enter their country at the same moment. 
These were so placed, that, though operating separately, 
they might yet be made to co-operate if desired. The 
elfect was such as to paralyse the incipient resolution of 
the loyalists. They showed no disposition for fight ; and 
feeling their temper, conscious of his difficulties, and now 
no longer hopeful of help from the British, Gainey dispatch- 
ed a ilag to Marion with proposals to treat for a pacifica- 
tion. IJe was not unwilling to renew the treaty which, 
just one year before, he had entered into with Horry, who 
then acted as tlie lieutenant of our partisan. This treaty, 
influenced by British emissaries, the Tories had very im- 
perfectly kept. In small squads they had been perpetually 
rising, and committing trespasses upon their neighbor!? 
whenever the withdrawal af Marion's men affordec' tlieai 



312 1. 1 F E O F M A R I O .N . 

opportunity They had now everything to fear from his 
anger ; but they also knew his wiUingness to forgive. 
Relying upon this, and making a merit of necessity, the 
communication of Gainey expressed the warmest solicitude 
for peace. To this Marion was prepared to listen. Com- 
missioners were appointed on both sides. They met, but, 
unhappily, they recognized in each other well known per- 
sonal opponents. They had often met in strife, and could 
not forbear alluding to their encounters. The conversa- 
tion grew warm, the parties excited, and instead of coming 
to terms, the commissioners almost came to blows. They 
separated with increased resentment. A fierce skirmish 
followed, and the attempt to adjust their differences was 
renewed between the respective commanders. Marion 
was anxious to effect a pacification. His services were 
required below on the Santee and Cooper, to check the in- 
cursions of the British, and he consented to meet and con- 
fer with Gainey in person. This determination was cen- 
sured by some of his officers. They denounced Gainey as 
a leader of banditti ; and, certainly, his conduct, on many oc- 
casions, deserved the reproach. They reproached Marion 
for committing his dignity in treating with such a person. 
But this suggestion did not affect him. He was governed 
by views and principles very far superior to those which in- 
fluence the ordinary soldier. His pride did not suffer from 
such censures. His reply was equally prompt and con- 
clusive. He told them that he " aimed at no higher dig- 
nity than that of essentially serving his country." 

The result was satisfactory to our partisan. Making a 
merit of necessity, Gainey yielded without requiring any 
farther resort to blows. At the Bowling Green, between 
the Great and Little Pedee, more than five hundred men 
laid down their arms, submitting to conditions which were 
rather strict than severe. Marion and Gainey met at 



L I F E F M A R I O JV . 313 

Birch's mill on the Sth June, when a treaty was drawn up 
having for its hasis the articles of the preceding arrange- 
ment with Horry. By this treaty, Gainey and \\.s men 
were to lay down their arms and not to resume them un- 
less ordered to do so»l)y the authorities of the State ; they 
bound themselves to deliver up all negroes, horses, cattle 
and other property of which they had dispossessed the 
people of this or any other State — to demean themselves 
as peaceable citizens, and submit to the laws of the State — 
to deliver up all contumacious and rebellious persons with- 
in their district — to deliver up all deserters from the regu- 
lar service — to sign a declaration of allegiance to the 
United States, and to South Carolina in particular, and to 
abjure the British crown, and to surrender all British pro- 
perty. Compliance with these conditions, was to ensure 
them full pardon for their treasons to the State, and the 
enjoyment of their property as citizens w'ithin it ; while 
individuals not choosmg to comply, were to be permitted, 
with their wives and children, a safe progress to the British 
lines. From the benefits of tbis treaty, some few atrocious 
offenders were excepted. Major Gainey removed with 
those who preferred to adhere to the fortunes of the British. 
He did not side w^ith their determination, but he deemed it 
a duty to see that those who had followed his arms, should 
be put in safety beyond the reach of their enemies : au 
honorable resolve certainly. Before his departure he 
waited upon Marion and said : " Honor, sir, requires that 
I should yield m,y commission to Col. Balfour, from whom 
] received it ; but this done, I shall immediately return to 
the country and seek your protection." This was frankly 
promised him, and with every confidence in the assurance 
of Marion, as soon as he had concluded his aflairs in 
Charleston, he promptly returned and enrolled himself in 
the American ranks. One of the loyalists, specially ex- 



3M LIFE OF MARION 

em pied from the privileges of the treaty with Gainey, was 
a notorious marauder by the name of Fanning. He was a 
sanguinary rutfian, with considerable talents, but brutal, 
reckless, and most inveterate in his hostility to the Ameri- 
can cause. Shortly after the treaty with Gainey, this per- 
son appeared in the truce ground at the head of a small 
party, It was feared that he would stir up the revolt 
Rnew. He came for that purpose. Marion was at once 
upon the alert. His force, divided into three bodies, oc- 
cupied various parts of the lately disaffected districts, and 
overawed the spirit of revolt, if it yet existed. Finding 
the cause hopeless in that quarter, Fanning sent a flag to 
Marion with a request that he would grant a safe-conduct 
to his wife, and some property, to the British garrison in 
Charleston. Against any such concession the officers of 
Marion expostulated. The;;^ were unwilling that so cruel 
a ruffian should receive any indulgence. But Marion 
looked more deeply into the matter, and yielded a prompt 
compliance with the request. " Let but his wife and pro 
perty reach the British lines, and Fanning will follow 
Force them to remain, and we only keep a serpent in ou? 
bosom." Such was his reasoning, and the truth of it was 
very soon apparent. Finding the hope of insurrectiorv 
fruitless. Fanning fled the country, and was as soon is» 
Charleston as his wife. 

The disaffected district was now filled with Marion's mer 
busied in securing all persons who^ declining to retire t** 
the British, still withheld their submission from the Ameri 
can authorities. In the execution of this duty, some licen • 
tiousness followed — such irregularities as are apt to occu/r 
where soldiers traverse a subdued territory. Intimations 
of these irregularities reached the ears of the partisan. Ncr 
individual was charged with offence, and -ao particulars 
were given ; but Marion took occasion to declare his in 



LIFL OF MARIOV. 315 

(!ignation in the presence of olficers and men, I have 
heard insinuations," said he, " which, if true, would dis- 
grace my command ; no accusation has heen made ; but I 
wish you clearly to know that let officer or soldier be 
proved guilty of crime, and he shall hang on the next tree.' 
His firmness and sincerity were known ; and he heard of 
no more license. While engaged in the irksome duty of 
arresting the recusant, he was equally busy in granting 
written protections to those who subscribed frankly to the 
conditions of the treaty. The judicious disposition and 
ijiimediate presence of his force — the terror in^^pired by his 
successes — the knowledge which they had of his mercy, 
and their evident abandonment by the British — had the 
ellect of bringing crowds to his camp, trebling the number 
of his own troops, seeking the proffered securities. Such 
was the consumption of paper on this occasion, or rather 
such the poverty at head-quarters, that old letters were 
torn up, the backs of which were put in requisition for 
this object. While at Birch's mills, on the Pedee, among 
others who sought the protection of Marion was one Capt. 
Butler, who had made himself particularly odious by his 
crimes and ferocity. He had been conspicuous as the op- 
pressor of the Whig inhabitants of the Pedee. He was 
not ignorant of the detestation in which he was held, and 
it was with some misgivings that he sought the required 
protection. His appearance in the American camp was 
the signal for a commotion. There were among the men 
of Marion some who were connected with persons who 
had suffered by the atrocities of Butler. They determined 
to avenge their friends. They resolved that no protection 
should save him, and an intemperate message to that effect 
was sent to Marion. Marion instantly took Butler tc his 
own tent, and firmly answered those by whom, the message 
wna brought: "Relying on the pardon otl'^^'ed, the man 



316 LIFE OF MABION. 

whom you would destroy has submitted. Both law and 
honor sanction my resolution to protect him with my life." 
A still more intemperate message reached him, declaring 
that '* Butler should be drao;2:ed to death from his tent — 
that to defend such a wretch w^as an insult to humanity '^ 
To this Marion made no reply, but calling around him the 
Diembers of his family, and some of his most trusty fol- 
lowers, he gave them to understand that he should expect 
their co-operation at all hazards in protecting the culprit 
from violence. " Prepare to give me your assistance, for 
though I consider the villany of Butler unparalleled, yet, 
acting under orders as I am, I am bound to defend him. 1 
will do so or perish." The mutiny threatened to be for- 
midable, and that night, Marion succeeded with a strong 
guard in conveying the prisoner to a place of safety. The 
treaty with Gainey put an end to the domestic feuds upon 
the Pedee, and anxious to regain the local confidence which 
they had forfeited, numbers of the loyalists of this quarter, 
following the example of their leader, entered the ranks 
of the Americans, and though too late to be of effectual 
service in the war, yet furnished sufficient proofs of their 
fidelity. 

No farther necessity appearing for the longer stay of 
Marion on the Pedee, he prepared to return to his former 
range along the rivers Cooper and Santee. His absence 
from this region afforded an opportunity for the enemy to 
renew their depredations from Charleston. Marion had 
left Colonel Ashby in command of his infantry, when, at 
the head of Maham's horse, he hurried to encounter 
Gainey, and quell his insurrection. Ashby, pressed by a 
superior British force, had been compelled to yield 
before it, and this intelligence left our partisan no moment 
of respite after quelling the commotions on the Pedee, be- 
fore he was lequired ii return and cover the country which 



LIFE 01' y A R 1 O N 317 

nad s.-) long been indebted to his vigilance for protection, 
in leaving the Pedee, with still some doubts of the newly 
converted loyalists of that quarter, he left Col. Baxter 
with one hundred and fifty trusty men, to maintain the as- 
cendancy which he had just acquired. This ohject was of 
tiie last importance, not only with reference to the doubt- 
fid personnel of the country, but the valuable matenel, 
cattle and provisions, which might have ..een carried off to 
the enemy. Suspicious of the fidelity of the loyalists, 
there was every reason to fear that it might be too strongly 
tested. The British were known to be preparing a fleet 
of small vessels for some enterprises directed northwardly, 
and no object of importance seemed more obvious than 
that of renewing the disturbances on the Pedee and pos- 
sessing themselves of the immense plunder which that re- 
gion of country might still afford. 

All precautions taken, our partisan^ hurried his return 
But had he not been joined by a newly raised corps under 
IMajor Conyers, he must have marched alone. So rapid 
liad been his movements, so unremitting his duties, that 
the cavalry of Mayham w^hich he led, were completely 
broken down. He was compelled to leave them behind 
him to recruit. At Murray's Ferry, on the Santee, he 
halted to collect his militia, and await the arrival of May- 
ham's corps. Here he consolidated the commands of 
Maham and Conyers into one regiment ; and about the 
middle of July w^as enabled once more to cross the Santee 
with a force of three hundred dismounted infantry, and a 
rospectaljle body of horse. With these he took post on the 
VVassamasaw, in a position which, while it w^as secure, 
enabled him to co-operate with the detachments of the 
main army in covering the country. Here his vigilance 
Mas again conspicuous. His parties were constantly 
iwisy His own movements Lo aid fro, w^hereveran enemy 



318 LIFE OF MARION. 

could approach, or was suspected, were continual, fioJM 
the Cooper to the Santee His objects were threefold— to 
check the irruptions of the enemy, to cut off their supplies, 
and to provide for his own people. His scouting parties 
penetrated in every hostile direction — sometimes as low as 
Daniel's Island and Clement's Ferry — points almost within 
the ken of the British garrison. But the enemy was no 
longer enterprising. They were not often met. Theif 
cavalry was few and inferior, and their exigencies may be 
inferred from their uniforming and converting some of their 
captured negroes into troopers. One corps of these black 
dragoons, consisting of t\/enty-six men, was cut to pieces by 
one of Marion's scouting parties of twelve, commanded by 
Capt. Capers. 

The British, tired of the war, were preparing to evacu- . 
ate the country. Preparatory to this, it was necessary that 
they should lay in sufficient store of provisions. General 
Leslie had been preparing for this necessity and, late in 
July, a numerous fleet of small vessels, conveying eight 
hundred men, and convoyed by galleys and armed brigs, 
left Charleston to proceed, as it was conjectured, against 
Georgetown. This compelled Marion to hasten in that 
direction. Here he made every arrangement for moving 
the public stores to a place of safety. Black Mingo was 
preferred as the depot, for the honorable reason, as given 
in Marion's own words, that it was " a settlement of good 
citizens and df my earliest and most faithful followers." 
But the enterprise of the enemy was less hazardous. The 
collection of rice was their object. This was to be found 
in the greatest quantity on the Santee, from the banks of 
which river they carried off about six hundred barrels. 
Marion's force was thrown over the Sampit so as to inter- 
cept their march to Georgetown, but he could nc^ imped* 



LIFE 1 MARIJN. 319 

their progress up the South Santee, piolecled as they were 
under the guns of their galley's. 

With the departure of the enemy from the river, the 
completion of his arrangements for the removal of the 
stores at Georgetown, and the defence of that place, Ma- 
»-ion again re-crossed the Santee and hurried to Watboo, 
on the Cooper. This river, leading to Charleston, to which 
the fleet of the enemy had returned, was naturally thought 
to be the next which they would attempt to penetrate, 
lie had left a small body of infantry at this place, but this 
was deemed inadequate to the required duties. But they 
were sufficient at least to attract the attention of the Bri- 
tish. Ignorant of Marion's return, believing him to be still 
at Georgetown, whither, it was known, he had taken all 
his cavalry, — a detachment of dragons, more than one 
hundred strong, was sent from Charleston, under Major 
Frasier, against the post at Watboo. The rapidity of 
Marion's movements brought him back in season for its 
safety. It happened unfortunately, that, when he heard of 
the approach of this detachment, his cavalry were absent, 
j)atrolling down the river, maintaining their watch for the 
British lleet, w hich was the chief subject of apprehension. 
This fleet, meanwhile, had gone southwardly, pursuing the 
object of its former quest up the waters of the Combahee. 
With the approach of Frasier, Marion dispatched his mes- 
sengers in search of his cavalry, and to call in his pickets. 
Some of the latter had joined him before the enemy appeared. 
Frasier exhibited considerable conduct in making his ap- 
proaches. He had taken an unfrequented route, and had 
.succeeded in capturing some of the out-sentinels of our 
partisan. He advanced upon him in the fullest confidence 
of eliecting a surprise — not of Marion, but of the smaller 
force under Col. Ashby, which he still believed to be the 
only force opposed to him. Fe was soon undeceived and 



820 LIFE OF MARION. 

found his enemy rather strongtr than he expected, and 
drawn up in readiness for his reception. It was about the 
25th of August. Marion lay at the plantation of Sir John 
Colleton, on the south side of Watboo Creek, and a little 
above the bridge. The situation pleased him, and it was 
one of his frequent places of encampment when he happen- 
ed to be operating in the vicinity. The owner was a loy- 
alist and had left the country. The mansion and his ex- 
tensive range of negro houses afforded ample shelter for 
such a force as that which Marion commanded. With the 
gradual advance of Frasier, Marion seems to have been 
acquainted, but in the absence of his cavalry his only mode 
of obtaining intelligence was through his officers. These 
alone, of all the party in camp, were provided with horses. 
Of these, he ordered out a party under Capt. Gavin 
Witherspooa to reconnoitre. Whil'e they were absent, 
Marion put his infantry in order of battle. The main body 
occupied an avenue of venerable cedars, which, neglected 
during the war, in their untrimmed state, stood overgrown 
with branches, their long boughs trailing almost to the 
ground. His left, by which the enemy was compelled to 
advance, were placed under cover of some of the out- 
Duildings. Thus prepared, he waited the approach of the 
British, though not without sundry misgivings. It must 
oe confessed that, at this juncture, he had not the most 
perfect confidence in the force under his command. They 
consisted, in great proportion, of those who, in that day, 
were known as new-made Whigs — men who had deserted 
the enemy and been cleansed of their previous treasons by 
tlie proclamation of Governor Rutledge, which, not long be- 
fore, had promised immunity to all vdio came in promptly 
with their adhesion and joined the American ranks. There 
were also prest nt some of those who, under Gainey, had 
recently received the protection of Marion, on the truce 



LIFE OF MARIO N . 321 

^ound of Pcdee. Major Gainey himself was among them, 
and with forty of his people, was placed conspicuously in 
the column in preparation for the British approach. Well 
might IMarion feel some uneasiness at his situation, particu- 
larly in the absence of the cavalry on which he could rely. 
But our partisan had the art of securing the fidelity of those 
around him, in quite as great a degree as he possessed that 
other great irilitary art, of extracting good service out of 
the most dou tful materials. He concealed his apprehen~ 
sions, while he endeavored to dissipate those of his men 

Meanwile, Witherspoon, with the reconnoitring party, 
advanced but a little distance in the woods, when they were 
met by the enemy's cavalry and instantly charged. A 
long chase followed, which soon brought the pursuers into 
view of the partisan. His men were half concealed be- 
hind the thick boughs of the cedars beneath which they 
were drawn up. The interest of the chase, as they drew 
more near, was increased by a little incident which was 
greatly calculated to encourage the militia. When in full 
view, the horse of Witherspoon failed him, or his rider 
purposely fell behind to bring up the rear of his little 
escort. At this sight a British dragoon darted forward to 
out him down. Witherspoon coolly suffered him to ad- 
vance until he was almost within striking distance. With 
sword uplifted, the assailant had already risen in his 
stirrups to smite, when, quick as lightning, Witherspoon, 
who had watched him narrowly, poured the contents of 
his carbine into his breast. This was foUov/ed by a shout 
from the Americans, and, with furious yells, the British 
dashed forward upon Marion's left. The reconnoitring 
party melted before thorn, and the infimtr} delivered their 
fire with fatal ellect. A dozen sa (dies were instantly 
emptied, Capt. Gillies of the British, who led the charge, 
DfiJng one of the first victims The enemy Si-on rallied^ 



B22 LIFE OF MARION 

and attempted first his right and then his left flank ; bui 
the evolutions of JMarion were quite as ready, and, by 
changing his front promptly, and availing himself of the 
cover afforded by the houses and the fences, he showed 
the hazard of attempting a second charge to be too great 
for such a force as that of Frasier. Foi an hour after, the 
British manoeuvred around them, but w^ithout discoverinir 
any opportunity of retrieving or revenging tneir disaster. 
A single fire terminated this affair, and seldo i has a single 
fire, where so small a front has been engaged, done such 
considerable execution. One officer and eight men were 
instantly killed ; three oiFicers and eight men wounded ; 
five horses fell dead upon the field, a few were taken and 
many wounded. The discharge took place at thirty paces, 
and Marion's men usually fired with heavy buck-shot. His 
new-made Whigs stood the test bravely, showing a steadi- 
ness and courage, whilst opposed to their old allies, which 
soon set the heart of our partisan at ease. They had very 
good reasons for steadiness and valor. They fought with 
halters about their necks. Not a man of them, if taken, 
would have escaped the cord and tree. Marion did not 
lose a man, but he suffered a very serious loss of another 
sort. In the midst of the confusion of the fight, the driver 
of his ammunition wagon took fright, and made off with 
his charge in a direction which betrayed its flight to the 
enemy, who immediately sent a small detachment, by 
which it was taken. Marion had no cavalry to recover it ; 
but five of his men, armed with the broad-swords of the 
British whom they had just slain, and mounted on theii 
captured horses, volunteered to recover it. They actually 
succeeded in rescuins; it from the detachment by which 
it Mas taken, but could retain it only till the fugitives could 
reach their main body and return with a force to m hich 
our volunteers could oppose no resistance. They were 



LIFE OF MARION. 323 

covfipellcd to abandon the prize, which, had fortune second- 
ed tlieir endeavors, was certainl}? due to their merits. This 
little atiiiir is a sample of that generous service which it 
was the happy faculty of our partisan to extract from his 
followers. It is to tradition that we owe the vague memory 
of numerous like advantages, of which history preserves 
no records. Under his guidance, his men seldom sulfer<^d 
panic. They fancied themselves invincible when he led 
In the present instance he declared that not a man faltered— 
that he even had to restrain their eagerness, and prevent 
them rushing out into the open field, to meet the charge 
of the cavalry. His own coolness never deserted him. 
He never lost sight of the whole field, in the vehement ac- 
tion of a part. His keenness of vision, his vigilance of 
watch, his promptness in opposing his best resources to the 
'^ress of danger, of covering his weak points, and converting 
into means and modes of defence and extrication, all that 
was available in his situation — were remarkable endow 
ments, which soon fixed the regards of his followers, and 
upon which they unhesitatingly relied. In the absence ot 
his cavalry, a defeat would have been a route ; his infan- 
try would have been cut to pieces, and his cavalry sub- 
sequently exposed to similar disaster. Had the latter 
been present, the safety of the British must have de- 
pended solely on the fleetness of their steeds. VViih this 
afihir ended the actual conflicts of our partisan. His men 
were not yet disbanded. He himself did not yet retire 
from the field which he had so often traversed in triumph. 
But the occasion for bloodshed was over. The great 
struggle for ascendancy between the British crown and her 
colonies was understood to be at an end. She was pre- 
pared to acknowledge the independence for which they 
had fought, when she discovered that it was no longer in 
her power to de[)rive them of it. She will nolretjuini any 
eui^^ium o: {ler magnanimity for her reluctant concession 



CHAPTER XX. 

The British propose terms of Pacification — Rejected by the Civil 
Authorities — They penetrate the Combahee with their Fleet — ■ 
Death of Col. Laurens — Anecdote of Marion — Death of Wil- 
rnot — British Evacuate Charleston — Marion separates from his 
Brigade at Watboo — His Military Genius. 

Though the war in Carolina was understood to be nearly 
at an end, and the toils and dangers of the conflict well nigh 
over, yet motives for vigilance still continued. There was 
ample room for vicissitudes. The British still held posses- 
sion of Charleston and its harbor, hut they were confinea 
to these narrow limits. Here, watched on all sides by the 
impatient Americans, they made their preparations for a 
reluctant departure. The sole remaining contest between 
the opposing armies lay, in the desire of the one to bear 
with them as much of the spoils of war as possible, and of 
the other to prevent them. The greater motives for the 
war on both sides were at an end. The mother country 
had declared her willingness to forego the exercise of her 
ancient authority, and the Colonies were admitted to the 
freedom which they sought. In this state of things neither 
army attempted enterprises, the result of which could not 
affect the objects of either nation. Thus was spared the 
unnecessary shedding of blood. The forces under Greene 
continued gradually to contract their limits ; while those 
of General Leslie remained comparatively quiescent. The 
British officer was governed by a proper wisdom. As the 
evacuation of Charleston was determined on^ there wa:* 



LIFE OF MARION. 325 

liltle use in lieoping up the appearances of a struggle which 
had virtually ceased to exist. He suggested accordingly 
to Greene, that an intercourse should be established be- 
tween town and country, by which the troops in the for 
mer might procure their necessary ^supplies in barter with 
the people. To provision his fleet and army w^as his ob- 
ject. For this he proposed a cessation of hostilities. It 
is to be regretted that this pacific proposition was not en- 
tertained. Some valuable lives might have been saved to 
the country — w^e may instance that of Col. Laurens. Gen- 
eral Greene was not adverse to the proposition, but the civil 
authorities objected. Their reasons for opposing this hu- 
mane suggestion are scarcely satisfactory. They believed 
that Leslie only aimed to accumulate provisions for the 
support of the British forces in the West Indies, and thus 
enable them to prosecute the war more vigorously against 
our French allies. This was an objection rather urged 
than felt. There was probably some feeling, some impa- 
tience of temper at the bottom, which prompted them to 
dispute, at the point of the sword, rather than yield to any 
suggestions of an enemy at whose hands they had suffered 
such protracted injuries. A little more coolness and reflec- 
tion might have shown them, that, by refusing the applica- 
tion of Leslie, they only rendered it necessary that the 
British should pay in blood for those supplies for w^hich 
they were not unwilling to pay in money. And blood usu 
ally calls for blood. The combat is never wholly on one 
side. It was virtually saying we can spare a few more 
citizens. The concession might have been made to the 
wislies of the British command(5r not only without any 
detriment to the service, but with absolute benefit to the 
people and the army. The provisions which the enemy re- 
quired would have found a good market in Charleston, and 
tlie clothing, in lack of which th*^ army 7'tts suffering se- 



326 LIFE OF MARION. 

verely, might lia^e been procured for them at the same 
place on the most reasonable terms. Besides, the rejection 
of the overture was not necessarily a prevention of the 
purpose of the British. The American army was quite too 
feeble either to expel tliem from the country, or to aixest 
their foraging parties. The only effect of the rejection of 
the humane and pacific proposition of the British com- 
mander, was to compel the preparation of that fleet of small 
craft, which, under the guns of his galleys, was now pene- 
trating the rivers, and rifling the grain from the wealthy 
plantations. We have seen Marion opposing himself to 
this fleet at Georgetown, and have witnessed their success 
upon the South Santee. The prompt return of our partisan 
to the head waters of Cooper river, in all probability, pre- 
served that neio;hborhood from the forao-ers. With the 
tidings of their progress up the Combahee, the American 
light brigade, under General Gist, was ordered to oppose 
them. It was here that one of those events took place 
which furnished a conclusive commentary upon the ill- 
judged resolution by which the cessation of hostilities 
was rejected, and the British denied the privilege of pro- 
curing supplies in a pacific manner. Hearing of the move- 
ment of Gist, Col. Laurens, who was attached to his bri- 
gade, and was always eager for occasions of distinction, 
rose from a sick bed to resume the command of his divi- 
sion. He overtook the brigade on the north bank of the 
Combahee river, near the ferry. Twelve miles below, the 
extreme end of Chehaw neck protrudes into the bed of the 
river,which, between these points, is bounded by extensive 
swamps and rice fields. ' At this point a redoubt had been 
thrown up by General Gist. The enemy was already 
above, on the opposite side of the stream. Laurens solicit- 
ed the command of this post for the purpose of annoying 
them ia their retreat. Meanwhile, the American cavalry 



LIFE OF MARION. 327 

under Major Call, had been ordered round by Sulkchatchie 
bridge, to join with the militia collected in that quarter for 
the purpose of striking at the enemy. With a howitzer, 
some matrosses and fifty infantry, Laurens moved down the 
river, and on the evening of the 2Gth reached the place of 
Mrs. Stock, sufficiently near to Chehaw Point to take post 
there by daylight the next morning. But the British were 
there before him. Baffled by the light brigade of Gist, in 
procuring provisions on the south side of the river, they 
had crossed it, and, apprised of the movements of Laurens, 
placed an ambush for him on his road to the Point. That 
night was spent by Laurens among the ladies of the place 
where he lingered. It is recorded that the company did 
not separate until a couple of hours before the time when 
the detachment was set in motion. The prospect of his 
encounter was the topic of conversation, and with the 
cheery, elastic spirit of youth, he gaily offered the ladies a 
conspicuous place from which they might enjoy a sight 
of the action without incurrino- its dano;ers. Before sun- 
rise his voice w^as hushed for ever. Unsuspicious of an 
enemy, he rode at the head of his command. The British 
were posted in a place thickly covered with fennel and high 
grass. With the advance guard when they were discover- 
ed, he promptly ordered a charge, gallantly leading which, 
lie fell at the first fire. Laurens was one of those brave 
and ardent spirits, generous, high-souled, and immaculate, 
which, in times of sordid calculation and drilled soldiership, 
recal to our minds the better days of chivalry. He was 
the Bayard of the southern youth in the war of the revolu- 
tion, uniting all the qualities of the famous chevalier, sans 
peuT ct sans reproche. That he should have fiillen, unne- 
cessarily, at the close of the war, when nothing was to be 
gained, and nothing to be saved, by valor, — and in an ob- 
scure encounter on a field of mere predatory warfare, doub- 



328 LIFE OF MARION. 

les the mortification of such a close to a noble and admira- 
ble career. A lesson from the pure and correct code of 
Marion's military morals would have saved this preciousi 
blood, and preserved this gallant youth for nobler fortunes. 
The following anecdote will illustrate the admirable char- 
acter of his mode of thinking on such subjects. While he 
held his position at Watboo, after he had beaten Frasier, he 
"was advised that a British party, which had been dispatched 
to procure water at Lempriere's Point, could be cut off with 
little difficulty. The British were then preparing tor em- 
barkation. A parting blow was recommended, as calculat- 
ed to hurry their movements, as well as to add something 
to the measure of patriot revenge for the wrongs and resent- 
ments of the past. But Marion resolutely refused to sanc- 
tion the enterprise. His answer proves equally the excel- 
lence of his judgment and the benevolence of his heart. 
" My brigade," said he, " is composed of citizens, enough 
of whose blood has been shed already. If ordered to attack 
the enemy, I shall obey ; but with my consent, not another 
life shall be lost, though the event should procure me the 
highest honors of the soldier. Knowing, as we do, that the 
enemy are on the eve of departure, so far from offering to 
molest, I would rather send^ party to protect them." 

This noble feeling would have saved the lives of Laurens, 
Wilmot, Moore, and other gallant young men, who were 
sacrificed at the last hour when all provocations to strife had 
ceased— when the battle was already won — when the great 
object of the war had been attained by the one party^ and 
yielded, however reluctantly, by the other. Capt. Wilmot, 
with a small command, was stationed to cover Johns' Island, 
and to watch the passage by Stono. Fond of enterprise he 
was tempted occasionally to cross the river and harass the 
enemy on James' Island. In one of these adventures, un- 
dertaken in conjunction with the celebrated Kosciunkcv 



LIFE OF MARION. 329 

against iiii armed party of the enomy's wooJ-cultcrs, he fell 
into an ambuscade, was himself slain, while his second in 
command, Lieut. Moore, severely wounded, fell into the 
hands of the British. This was the last blood shed in the 
American revolution. It need not to have been shed. The 
denouement of the protracted drama had already taken place. 
The conquest of the Indians by Pickens was complete ; the 
Tories no longer appeared in bodies, though, for some time 
after, individuals of the scattered bands occasionall}'^ con- 
tinued the habits of outlawry which the war had taught 
them, and dealt in deeds of midnight robbery and crime ;— 
and the British armies were simply preparing to depart 
On the 14-th of December, while the American columns 
entered the city from the neck, those of the British retired 
to their ships ; the movements of which, as their white sails 
distended to the breeze, presented, in the language of Moul- 
trie, " a grand and pleasing sight." It was a sight, how- 
ever, which t^ie militia, always undervalued, always mis- 
understood and misrepresented, were not permitted to be- 
hold. They had fought the battle, it was true, " but the 
civil authority" conceived their uses to be over, and " they 
were excluded as dangerous spectators ;" an unworthy and 
most ungrateful decision, in which, we are pleased to learn 
from a self-exculpatory letter of General Greene, he had 
no participation, and which he did not approve. 

The forces of the British withdrawn from the shores of 
Carolina, the country, exhausted of resources, and filled 
with malcontents and mourners, was left to recover slowly 
from the hurts and losses of foreign and intestine strife 
Wounds were to be healed which required the assuasive 
hand of time, which were destined to rankle even in the 
bosoms of another generation, and the painful mem )ry of 
which is keenly treasured even now But the civil author- 
ity takes the place of the military and with the disap- 



S30 L I F E F M A R I N . 

pearaiice of the invader, the warrior lays aside his 
sword, — satisfied if he may still retain the laureh which 
his valor has won. Our partisan, yielding hirr.self at 
the call of his country, was not the man to linger unne- 
cessarily long upon the stage. The duties which had call- 
ed him into the field were faithfully performed ; how faith- 
fully it has been the effort of this humble narrative to show. 
The time was come when he was to part with his brigade 
for ever — when he was to take leave of thase brave fellows, 
whom he had so frequently led to victor}^, never to dis- 
honor. The separation was touching, but without parade. 
On this occasion his deportment was as modest as it had 
been through the whole period of their connection. Gath- 
ered around him among the cedars at his Watboo encamp- 
ment, his followers were assembled to receive his last fare- 
W' ell. The simplicity which had marked his whole career 
distinguished its conclusion. His address was brief but not 
without its eloquence — such eloquence as belongs to the 
lano-uacre of unaffected and unadulterated truth. He ac- 
knowledged, with thanij^, the services of the officers and 
men ; dwelt passingly upon particular events of which they 
had reason to be proud, and bade them a friendly and affec- 
tionate farewell. The brief review which he made of their 
campaigns was well calculated to awaken the most touch- 
mg recollections. He had been their father and protector 
iNo commander had ever been more solicitous of the safety 
and comfort of his men. It was this which had rendered 
him so sure of their fidelity, which had enabled him to ex- 
tract from them such admirable service. His simple en- 
treaty stayed their quarrels ; and the confidence which they 
yielded to his love of justice, made them always willing to 
abide the decisions of his judgment. Olficers and men 
equally yielded to the authority of his opinion, as they did 
to that which he exercised in the capacity of their com 



LIFE OF MARION 331 

niundor. No duel took place among his officers during the. 
whole; of his command. 

The province which was assigned to his control by Gov- 
ernor Rutledge, was the constant theatre of war. He was 
requiredAo cover an immense extent of country. With a 
force constantly unequal and constantly fluctuating, he con- 
trived to supply its deficiencies by the resources of his own 
vigilance and skill. His personal bravery was frequently 
shown, and the fact that he himself conducted an enter- 
prise, w^as enough to convince his men that they w^ere cer- 
tain to be led to victor}^ In due degree with their convic- 
tion of his care and consideration for themselves, was their 
readiness to follow^ w^here he commanded. He had no 
lives to waste, and the game he played was that wdiich en- 
abled him to secure the greatest results, with the smallest 
amount of hazard. Yet, when th( occasion seemed tore- 
quire it, he could advance and strike with an audacity, 
which, in the ordinary relations of the leader with the sol- 
dier, might well be thought inexcusable rashness. We 
have, already, in the opening of this biography, adverted to 
the melancholy baldness of the memorials upon which the 
historian is compelled to rely for the materials of his narra- 
tive. The reader will perceive a singular discrepancy be- 
tween the actual events detailed in the life of every popular 
hero, and the peculiar fame which he holds in the minds of 
his countrymen. Thus, while Marion is everywhere re- 
garded as the peculiar representative in the southern States, 
of the genius of partisan w^arfare, we are surprised, when 
we would trace, in the pages of the annalist, the sources of 
this fame, to find the details so meagre and so unsatisfac- 
tory. Tradition mumbles over his broken memories,which 
we vainly strive to pluck from his lips and bind together in 
conerent and satisfactory records. The spirited surprise, 
the happy ambush, the daring onslaught, the fortunate es- 



S32 LIFE OF MARION. 

cape, — these, as they involve no monstrous slaughter —no 
murderous strife of masses, — no rending of walled towns 
and sack of cities, the ordinary historian disdains. The 
military reputation of Marion consists in the frequent per- 
formance of deeds, unexpectedly, with inferior means, hy 
which the enemy was annoyed and dispirited, and the hearts 
and courage of his countrymen warmed into corresponding 
exertions with his own. To him we owe that the fires of 
patriotism were never extinguished, even in the most dis- 
astrous hours, in the low country of South Carolina. He 
made our swamps and forests sacred, as well because of the 
refuge which they gave to the fugitive patriot, as for the fre- 
quent sacrifices which they enabled him to make, on the 
altars of liberty and a befitting vengeance. We are in pos- 
session of but few of the numerous enterprises in which he 
was engaged ; imperfect memories of the aged give us 
glimpses of deeds for the particulars of which we turn in 
vain to the dusty pages of the chronicler. But we neea 
not generalize farther upon the traits of his military char- 
acter. We have endeavored to make these speak for 
themselves, page by page, in the narration of the events, 
so far as we know them, by which his reputation was ac- 
quired. It is enough that his fame has entered largely into 
that of his country, forming a valuable portion of its sec- 
tional stock of character. His memory is in the very hearts 
of our people. Of the estimation in w^hich he was held by 
contemporaries more might be said, but these pages bear 
amjile testimony of the consideration which he commanded 
from friend and foe. The testimonials of Moultrie, Greene, 
Lee and others, are conclusive of that rare worth and ex- 
cellence — that combination of military ^nd civil virtues- • 
which biography cannot easily be found to excel 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Marion retires to his farm, which he finds in ruins.— Is returned 
to the Senate from St. John. — His course on the Confiscation 
Act. — Anecdotes. — Is made Commandant at Fort Johnson ■ 
His Marriage. — A member of the State Convention in 1794. — 
"Withdraws from public life. — His Death. 

It was with no reluctance but with the cheerful prefer- 
ence which Marion had always given, since ijianhood, to 
the life of the farmer, that he returned to its simple bu* 
attractv/e avocations. But the world with him was, as i 
were, to be begun anew ; no easy matter to one whose 
habits had been necessarily rendered irregular by the capri 
cious and desultory influences of a militar}?- career ; still 
more difficult in the case of one who has entered upon the 
last period of life. The close of the Revolution found him 
destitute of means, almost in poverty, and more than fifty 
years old. His health was good, however; his frame 
elastic; his capacity for endurance, seemingly, as great as 
ever. But his little fortune had suffered irretrievably. His 
interests had shared the fate of most other Southern 
patriots, in the long and cruel struggle through which the 
country had gone. His plantation in St. John's, Berkley. 
lay within a mile of one of the ordinary routes of the Bri- 
tish army, and his career was not calculated to move them 
to forbearance in the case of one, whose perpetual activity 
and skill so constantly baffled their designs. His estate 
was ravaged, and subjected to constant waste and depreda- 
tion. One-half of his negroes were taken away, and the 



334 LIFE OF MARION. 

rest only saved to him by their fidehty. The refuge in 
swamp and forest was as natural to the faithful negro, on 
the approach of the British uniforms, as to the fugitive 
patriot. Ten workers returned to him, when he was pre- 
pared to resume his farm, but he was destitute of every- 
thing beside. The implements of culture, plantation uten- 
sils, household furniture, stock, cattle and horses, clothes 
and provisions for his people, were all wanting, and all to 
be purchased, and he penniless. ^He received no compen- 
sation for his losses, no reward for his sacrifices and ser- 
vices.'* The hope of half pay was held out to him by his 
more sanguine friends, but this promise was never realized. 
But, w^ith that cheerful spirit which liopes all things front 
time, and a meek compliance with what it brings, Marion 
proceeded to work out his deliverance by manly industry, 
and a devotion to his interests as true as that which he had 
yielded to the interests of his country. He had become 
fond of rural life, and the temporary estrangement of war 
seemed only to increase his desire for that repose in action, 
which the agricultural life in the South so certainly secures. 
But he w as not permitted to retire from public service. 
The value of his services was too well known, and there 
was too much yet to be done, towards the repose and se- 
curity of the country, to suffer them to be dispensed with. 
He was again returned to the Senate of the State by the 
people of St. John's. In this situation, he still maintained 
those noble and disinterested characteristics which had 
made him equally beloved and venerated. Two anec- 
dotes are preserved of him in his official character, which 
deserve mention. Both of these grew out of the events 
of the war. The importance of the Confiscation Act, 
passed at the session of January, 1782, at Jacksdnborough, 
arose chiefly from the necessity of providing for the emer- 
gencies of the State and miiitaiy. during the continuance 



LIFE OF MARION. 335 

of the war. Under existing circumstances, the measure 
was sustained by our partisan. But the case was altered 
when the British ministry abandoned their pretensions to 
the country, and when it was left by their armies. It was 
then that numerous offenders — those who had been least 
conspicuous for their Tory predilections — applied for the 
indulgence and forbearance of the State. Petitions were 
poured into the Leo;islature, sustained by such pleas and 
friends as the circumstances of the suppliants could pro- 
cure — excusing their conduct, asserting their repentance, 
and imploring the restoration of their possessions. Marion's 
course in regard to these suppliants may be inferred from 
his previous character. There was nothing vindictive in 
his nature. He was superior to the baser cravings of a 
do2:2;ed venoreance, and his vote%ind voice declared his 
magnanimity. It so happened that the first of these peti- 
tions upon which he was called to act, came from one of 
that class of timid, time-serving persons, who, with no 
predilections for virtue, no sympathy for principles or 
country, simply shape their course with regard to safety 
He was a man of wealth, and the effect of wealth in peril- 
ous times is but too frequently to rendei selfishness equally 
cowardly and dishonest. The amount of his offence con- 
sisted in trimming, while the strife was doubtful, between 
Whig and Tory, and siding with the latter when the Bri- 
tish gained the ascendency. He did not take up arms, took 
no active part in public affairs, and was content to shelter 
his person and poss essions under a cautious insignificance. 
About eighteen months before, Marion had met the peti- 
tioner at a gathering of the people. The latter approached 
and offered our partisan his hand. But the juncture wa? 
one in which it behooveth patriotism to speak out at all 
hazards. The struggle was for life and death, on the \r.\i-i 
equally of Whig and Tcry. Mai ion knew the cliaracti'/ 



336 L/FE or MARION 

of the person, and disdained it. To the surprise of all, 
who knew how scrupulous of insult he was, — how indul- 
gent and forbearing, — he turned away from the trimmer 
and the sycophant Without recognition. This treatment 
was greatly censured at the time, and when Marion rose 
in the Senate, to speak on the subject of the petition of 
the man whom he had so openly scorned, it was taken for 
granted that he would again give utterance to feelings of 
the sort which moved him then The miserable offender, 
who was himself present, grew pale, trembled, and gave 
up his cause as lost. What was his surprise and delight 
to hear the venerable patriot advocate his application ! He 
was successful in obtaining for the suppliant the mercy 
which he implored. The opponents of the petitioner, 
some of whom were of that class of patriots who hunger 
for the division of the spoils, were aghast, and having 
counted on Marion's support, now loudly proclaimed his 
inconsistencjT-. But to these his answer was equally 
prompt and satisfactory. His reasons were true to his 
principles. He had been governed in his previous views 
by the necessity of the case. With the disappearance of 
that necessity he recognized other laws and influences. 
" Then," said he, " it was war. It is peace now. God 
has given us the victory ; let us show our gratitude to 
heaven, which we shall not do by cruelty to man." 

The expediency of humanity was always the uppermost 
sentiment w^ith Marion. A nobler expression of it never 
fell from the lips of mortal. 

The next anecdote of the legislative career of Marion is 
one which directly related to himself. At an early period 
in the action of the Assembly, after the war, it was deemed 
advisable to introduce a hill by which to exempt fro-m legal 
investigation the conduct of the militia while the war had 
lasted. It was thought, justly enough, that, from the 



LIFE OF MARION. 337 

nature cf the services in wliicli they were engaged, and 
the necessities which coerced tliem, they might need, in 
numerous instances, to be sheltered from legal persecution. 
They had been comp'elled to war with a heavy hand, to 
seize frequently upon private property, and subject the 
possessions of the citizen to the exigencies of the commu- 
nity. The necessities of the service being recognized, the 
Legislature were ready to justify them ; and the Act which 
was prepared for the purpose, included amongst others, 
thus specially exempted, the name of Marion. But, 
scarcely hau it been announced from the paper, when the 
venerable man arose, and with flushed cheeks and emphatic 
brevity, demancl'Ipd that his name should be expunged from 
the catalogue. He declared himself friendly to the Bill — 
he believed it to be equally just and necessary ; but for 
nis own part, as he was not conscious of any wrong of 
which he had been guilty, he was not anxious for any im- 
munity. " If," said he, " I have given any occasion for 
complaint, I am ready to answer in property and person 
If I have wronged any man I am willing to make him res- 
titution. If, in a single instance, in the course of my com- 
mand, I have done that which I cannot fully justify, jus- 
tice requires that I should suffer for it." 

So proud was his integrity, so pure and transparent was 
his happy consciousness of a mind fixed only on good, and 
regulated by the sternest rules of virtue, and the nicest 
instincts of gentleness and love. Tlie Bill passed into a 
law, but the name of ]\Iarion, omitted at his requisition, 
is nowhere present, as showing that he needed other secur- 
ity than that wliich Is afforded to the meanest citizen under 
the keenest scrutiny of justice. 

Marion did not confmc his objections to the continued 
operation of the Confiscation Act, to the single instance 
whict we have given. We have reason to believe that 



S3S LIFE OF MARIUN, 

his 3ril)ors to remedy its liarrlsliips, and restrain its .seveii^ 
ties, were uniform and m7remitting There is no doubt 
that he favored the .original bill. IIq considered it a war 
measure, and necessary to the prosecution of the war. The 
propriety of the distinction which he made just after th© 
war was over, obvious enough to us now, was not so evi- 
dent at a season when the victors were looking after tlie 
division of the spoils. The subject became one of consid- 
erable excitement, and we may say in this place, that, 
after time had mollified the popular feeling in some degree, 
the State admitted the greater number of the offenders to 
mercy and restored their estates. But tliere is reason to 
believe that the humane sentiments which Marion taught, 
were not universal, and met with most violent opposition. 
His feelings on the subject were not only declared Avith 
franknesss, but with warmth and energy. Dining at the 
table of Governor Matthews, while the strife was highest, 
he was called upon by his Excellency for a toast. Lifting 
liis glass, with a smile, he promptly gave the following, — • 
*' Gentlemen, here's damnation to the Confiscation Act." 

Though, in the language of ]\Ioultrie, "born a soldier," 
and yielding bo many of his youthful and maturer years to 
the habits of the camp and field, there was nothing of a 
harsh or imperious nature hi his temper or his manner. 
The deportment of the mere soldier seems to have been 
liis aversion. He preferred the modest and forbearing 
carriage which is supposed to belong more distinctly to 
civil than to military life. No novelty of situation, no 
provocation of circumstance, nothing in the shape of an- 
noyance or disaster, was suffered so to rufifie his mood as 
to make him heedless or indifferent to the claims or sensi- 
bilities of others. He never conceived that any of his vn*- 
hies gave him a right to trespass upon tlie proprieties of 
>^)cial ov |iublic life. An anecdote is related of him which 



L r F K O V MARION 339 

illnstratos the voiiornfioii wlifcli lie ontertainod lor the re<:!;n- 
lations of society and law. It appears that, when the war 
was over, one of his closest intimates and nearest friends — 
one whom he had trusted long, and who had shared with 
him in all his campaigns, stood within the perils of the law 
for some offence of which the facts have not been preserved. 
Presumhig upon his well-known services, and the favor in 
which he was held by the public, he refused to submit to 
the ordinary legal process, and bade defiance to the sher- 
iff.* While maintaining this position, Marion sought him 
out. He used no argument to convince the offender of his 
error, for that, he felt assured, the other sufficiently knew. 
]5ut he addressed him in a style, and with words, which 
conveyed much more than any ordinary argument. " De- 
liver yourself," said he, " into the hands of justice — sub- 
mit to the process of the sheriff, and my heart and hand 
are yours as before; — resist, — refuse, — and we are sepa- 
rated for ever." It need not be said that under such an 
exhortation the refractory spuit was subdued. How much 
to be regretted it is that so few anecdotes have been prt- 
Bcrved of his character, illustrating a life which, according 
to all testimony, was consistent throughout in a just appre- 
ciation of all that was pure, virtuous, and becoming, in the 
cliaracter of the individual man. 

Early in the year 1783, the following resolutions passed 
in the Senate of South Carolina, Marion, who was a mem- 
ber not being present at that time ; 

Senate, South Carolina, » 
February 26, 17S3. ] 
" Resolved, nem. con., That the thanks of this House 
lie given to Bi-igadier General Marion, in his place, as a 
m?,mber of this House, for his eminent and conspicuous 
B('rvic(!S to his countrv. 



340 LIFE OF MARION. 

** Resolved, ncm. con.. That a gold medal be given to 
Brigadier General Marion, as a mark of public approbation 
for his great, glorious, and meritorious conduct." 

Two days after, Marion being in his place in the Senate, 
the President took occasion to convey to him the sense of 
these resolutions, in a neat and highly laudatory speech. 
He said, among other things— 

'* When I consider the occasion which calls me to ad- 
dress you, I am filled with inexpressible pleasure ; but 
when I reflect on the difficulty of doing justice to your dis- 
tinguished merit, I feel my own inefficiency. What senti- 
ments or words shall I make use of equal to the task ! I 
scarce dare trust my own, especially after what has been 
said by several honorable persons on this floor, respecting 
your great, your glorious, and meritorious conduct ; and 1 
most earnestly wish, for my own sake, for yours, Sir, and 
for the honor of this House, that I could avail myself of 
oheir. eloquence. . . . Your conduct merits the ap- 
plause of your countrymen — your courage, your vigilance, 
and your abilities, have exceeded their most sanguine ex- 
pectations ; and have answered all their hopes. Whilst 
the virtue of gratitude shall form a part of our national 
character, your important services to this country can nev- 
er be forgotten," &c. 

To this Marion replied with simple brevity : 

" Mr. President : The approbation which this House 
have given of my conduct, in the execution of my duty 



T,IFF. OF .MARION. 341 

gives me very pleasing antl heartfelt satisfaction. The 
honor which they have conferred on me this day, by their 
thanks, will be remembered with gratitude. I shall always 
be ready to exert my abilities for the good of the state and 
the liberties of her inhabitants. I thank you, Sir, for the 
polite manner in which you have conveyed to me the 
thanks of the Senate." 

Whether the medal was really given, or only voted, 
is a fact that we have no means of ascertaining. It 
is to be feared that the action of the Senate went no 
farther than the resolution and the speech. It probably 
remains a reproach against the republic, in this, as in 
numerous other instances, that, knowing what gratitude 
required, we would yet forego the satisfaction of the debt. 
Cheaply, at best, was our debt to Marion satisfied, with a 
gold medal, or the vote of one, while Greene received ten 
thousand guineas and a plantation. "We quarrel not with 
the appropriation to Greene, but did Marion deserve 
less from Carolina 1 Every page of her history answers 
"No!" 



By the Legislative session of 17S4, Fort Johnson, in the 
harbor of Charleston, was fitted up and garrisoned by the 
Stat<e. In the unstable condition of things, so immediately 
after the war, some such fortress might well be deemed 
essential to the security of the port. Marion was appointed 
Commandant of the Fort, Avith an annual salary of c£500, 
The office was in all probability made for him. His neces- 
sities were known, and its salary was intended to com- 
pensate him for his losses during the war. But tlie duties 
of the office were noininal. Even its possible uses soon 



'^'1.2 LIFE OF MARIO^^ 

ceased to be apparent; and, with a daily increasing sense 
)f security, tlie people murmured at an appropriation wliicli 
they considered unnecessarily burdensome. The common 
•<nind could not well perceive that the salary was not so 
«iuch yielded for what was expected of the office, as for 
what had already been performed. It was not given for 
present, but for past services. It was tlie payment of a 
debt incurred, not a simple appropriation for the liquidation 
of one growing out of current performances. Legislative 
reformers waged constant war against it, and it was finally 
cut down to five hundred dollars. A smile of fortune, — 
one of the fairest perhaps, that had ever shone on our 
hero, — -just then relieved him from the mortifying necessity 
of holding a sinecure which his fellow citizens pronounced 
an incumbrance. It had been observed by his friends that 
there was a lady of good family and considerable wealth, 
who appeared to take a more than ordinary interest in 
hearing of his exploits. Modest and reserved himself, Mar- 
ion was not conscious of the favorable impression which he 
had made upon this lady. It was left for others to discov- 
er the state of her affections. They remarked the delight 
with which, like 

" The gentle lady wedded to the Moor," 
she listened to the tale of his achievements, his 

"Hair-breadth 'scapes in th' imminent deadly breach, 
Of being taken by the insolent foe," — 

and they augured favorably of the success of any desire 
which he might express to make her the sharer in his 
future fortunes. On this hint he spake. Miss Mary 
Videau, like himself, came of the good old Huguenot stock, 
the virtues of which formed our theme in the opening 
chapter of this narrative. He proposed to her and was 
accepted Neither of them was young It was not in 



LlKi: OF MA!MO\. oiJ 

the heyday of passion that they loved. The tic that 
bound them sprang from an affection growing out of a just 
appreciation of their mutual merits. She is reported to 
have somewhat resembled him as well in countenance as 
character. She certainly fehared warmly in his interests 
and feelings. She readily conformed to his habits no less 
than his wishes — partook of his amusements, shared his 
journeys — which were frequent — and still, in his absence, 
could listen with as keen a zest to his praises, as before 
their marriage. During the summer months, it was his 
almost yearly custom to retire to the mountains of the in- 
terior. She was always his companion. On such occa- 
sions, he was guilty of a piece of military ostentation of 
which nobody could have accused him while a military 
man. He had presei-ved carefully, as memorials of an 
eventful history, his marquee, camp bed, and cooking 
utensils, just as he had done while in the Brigade, during 
the last twelve months of his military life. These were 
carefully taken with him ; and, with his faithful servant 
Oscar, and his two sumpter mules, were still the compan- 
ions ^^ his wanderings. They were coupled no doubt 
Avith many associations as interesting to his heart as they 
were trying to his experience. They were, perhaps, 
doubly precious, as they constituted the sum total of all that 
he had gathered — besides an honorable fame — from his 
various campaigniugs. 

, The marriage of Marion, like that of Washington^ was 
without fruits. This may have baffled some hopes, and in 
some degree qualified his happiness, but did not impair his 
virtues. He adopted the son of a relative, to whom ho 
f,^1ve his own name, in the hope of ]3erpetuating it in tlie 
family, but even this desire has been defeated, since tha 
h»3ir thus chosen, though blessed with numerous childi'eiv 
was never so fortunate as to rear a sou. 



344 LIFE OF MA RIO N 

In tlie decline of life, in the modest condition of the farm- 
er, Marion sGeius to have lived among his neighbors, 
very much as the ancient patriarch, surrounded by his 
flock. He was honored and beloved by all. His dwelling 
was the abode of content and cheerful hospitality. Its 
doors were always open ; and the chronicler records that it 
had many chambers. Here the stranger found a ready 
welcome, and his neighbors a friendly counsellor, to the 
last. His active habits were scarcely lessened in the lat- 
ter years of life. His agricultural interests were managed 
judiciously, and his property underwent annual increase. 
Nor did his domestic interests and declining years prevent 
him from serving the public still. He still held a com- 
mission in the militia, and continued to represent the par- 
ish of St. John's, in the Senate of the State. In May, 
1790, we find him sitting as a member of the Convention 
for forming the State Constitution ; but from this period 
he Avithdrew from public life, and, in 1794, after the reor- 
ganization of the State militia, he resigned his commission 
in that service to which he had done so much honor. On 
this occasion he was addressed by an assembly of the citi- 
zens of Georgetown, through a special committee of four, 
in the following language.* 

" Citizen General — At the present juncture, when the 
necessity of public affairs requires the military of this 
State to be organized anew, to repel the attacks of an 
enemy from whatever quarter they may be forced upon 
us ; we, the citizens of the district of Georgetown, finding 
you no longer at our head, have agreed to convey to you 
our grateful sentiments for your former numerous servicer 
In the decline of life, Avhen the merits of the veteran are 
too oft^Ji forgotten, we wish to remind you that yours are 

* Tlie committee consisted of Messrs. Williair. I>, James, Elobe" 
Brovviitieid, Tiioiiuis Mitchell and Joseph BlytJi^. 



LIFE OF MARION. 345 

Btill frcsli ill tlic remembrance of your fellow citizens. 
Could it be possible for men who have served and fought 
under you, to be now forgetful of that General, by whose 
prudent conduct their lives have been saved and their fami- 
lies preserved from being plundered by a rapacious enemy ? 
We mean not to flatter you. At this time it is impossible 
to suspect it. Our present language is the language of 
freemen, expressing only sentiments of gratitude. Your 
achievements may not have xsufliciently swelled the historic 
page. Tliey were performed by those who could better 
wield the sword than the pen — by men whose constant 
dangers precluded them from the leisure, and whose neces- 
sities deprived them'of the common implements of writing. 
But this is of little moment. They remain recorded in 
such indelible characters upon our minds, that neither 
change of circumstances, nor length of time, can efface 
them. Taught by us, our children shall hereafter point 
out the places, and say, * hcre^ General Marion, posted to 
advantage, made a glorious stand in defence of the liberties 
of liis country — there, on disadvantageous ground, retreated 
to save the lives of his fellow citizens.' What could be 
more glorious for the General, commanding freemen, than 
thus to fight, and thus to save the lives of his fellow sol- 
diers ? Continue, General, in peace, to till those acres 
which you once wrested from the hands of an enemy. 
Continue to enjoy dignity accompanied with ease, and t<? 
lengthen out your days blessed with the consciousness of 
conduct unaccused of rapine or oppression, and of actions 
ever directed by the purest patriotism." 

Tlie artless language of this address was grateful to the 
venerable patriot. In its truth and simplicity lay its force 
and elo({uence. It had truly embodied in a single sentence 
the nobU; points of his career and character. He lived in 
the deliglitful coi ^ciousness of a pure mind, free from «,ccu- 



346 LIFE OF MARION. 

sation — and no higher eulogy could be conferred upon tlio 
captam of citizen soldiers, than to say, he never wantonly 
exposed their lives, but Avas always solicitous of theil 
safety. To this address his answer was verbal. He no 
longer used the pen. The feebleness of nature was making 
itself understood. That he felt himself failing mny be in- 
ferred from his withdrawal from all public affairs. But his 
mind was cheerful and active to the last. He still saw his 
friends and neighbors, and welcomed their coming — could 
still mount his horse and cast his * eye over his acres.' 
The progress of decline, in his case, was not of that humi- 
liating kind, by which the faculties of the intellect are 
clouded, and the muscles of the body made feeble and in- 
competent. He spoke thoughtfully of the great concerns 
of life, of death, and of the future ; declared himself a 
Christian, an humble believer in all the vital truths of 
rehgion. As of the future he entertained no doubt, so of 
the awful transition through the valley and shadow of 
death, he had no fear. " Death may be to others," said 
he, " a leap in the dark, but I rather consider it a resting- 
place where old age may throw off its burdens." Ho 
died, peaceful and assured, with no apparent pain, and 
without regret, at his residence in St. John's parish, on the 
1/ 27th day of February, 1795, having reached the mature and 
mellow term of sixty-three years. His last words declared 
his superiority to all fears of death ; " for, thank God," 
fiaid he, " I can lay my hand on my heart and say that, 
since I came to man's estate, I have never intentionally 
done wrong to any." 

Thus died Francis Marion, one of the noblest models of 
the citizen soldier that the world has ever produced. 
Brave without rashness, prudent Avithout timidity, firm 
without arrogance, resolved without rudeness, good with- 
out cant, and virtuous without presumption. His mortal 



LIFE OF MARION. 347 

remains are preserved at Belle-Isle, St. Stephen's parish 
The marble slab which covers them bears the following 
inscription : — " Sacred to the memory of Brigadier-General 
Francis Marion, who departed this life on the 27th Feb., 
1795, in the sixty-third year of his age, deeply regretted 
by all his fellow citizens. History will record his worth, 
and rising generations embalm his memory, as one of the 
most distinguished patriots and heroes of the American 
Revolution ; which elevated his native country to honor 
and Independence, and secured to her the blessings of 
liberty and peace. This tribute of veneration and grati- 
tude is erected in commemoration of the noble and dis- 
interested virtues of the citizen, and the gallant exploits 
of the soldier, Avho lived without fear, and died without 
reproach." 

This inscription was the tribute of an individual, not of 
the country. The State of South Carohna has conferred 
his name upon one of its district divisions. But a proper 
gi-atitude, not to speak of policy, would seem to requir* 
more ; — 

" If it be we love 
Hi? fame ami virfues, it were well, metliinks, 
To link Ihem witli his name i' the public eye, 
That men, who in the paths of gainful trade, 
Do still forget the venerable and good, 
May have such noble monitor still nigh, 
And, musing at his monument, recal. 
Those precious memories of the deeds of one 
Whose life were the best mpdel for their Bona.*' 



It 









